


5 Sentence Meme May Madness!

by snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Reader-Insert, Roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 29,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales/pseuds/snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I posted a thing on my blog asking for the first five sentences of a story, and I would write at least five more.</p><p>It took off, and a lot of them ended up being several messages long. </p><p>This contains original characters/setups of mine like Roomates and Jeep Man & Key Lady, and all the other characters as requested.</p><p>I loved the collaboration with my readers, and I am amazed at the talent that exists out there. </p><p>So many people wrote in saying thank you because it let them write without the fear and anxiety of publishing that normally held them back. Because of this, all of these stories are dedicated to them. To all the authors and creative geniuses out there, you can do it. I promise. I believe in you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The girl felt eyes on her back, staring nonstop since the beginning of the class.**

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

It was like the room was filled with electricity, every hair on her body following suit - except her head, obviously. Thank God for that.

_What does he want?_

_Great job. First day here, and already people are staring at you. Wonderful._

_Seriously though, this is intense._

Chancing a look back, she was met with a pair of brown eyes trained right on her own, and when she landed on them, her breath was stolen away.

Lost in thought, and frankly lost in those brown eyes, she felt a paper ball hit the side of her head, and the classroom erupted in a laugh right before the bell rang, her friend beside her having the decency to look sheepish as her cheeks tinted bright red.

Looking down at the floor, she wished it’d swallow her whole. Maybe that would make this whole new person thing easier. No more ‘new girl’, but ‘the girl who got eaten by the floor’. Had a nice ring to it.

A pair of shoes interrupted her view, and she followed them up to meet those same brown eyes, the smile underneath them perfectly crooked, and the hand extended to her warm and inviting. “Hi. You’re new here, aren’t you? Let me walk you to your next class.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Tuesday evenings were often uneventful, and so far, this Tuesday evening was no exception; that is, until she was almost knocked off of her feet by a caped stranger, who grabbed the girl by the shoulders and hastily insisted that she punch him in the face, to 'save both of their lives'.**

“What are you, crazy?!” she cried, letting her bag with the carton of chocolate milk fall to the asphalt, bursting into a brown, disgusting mess as it inched across the parking lot, slowly running away from the caped stranger and his captive.

“Does it matter?” he asked hastily, giving her shoulders another shake for good measure, quickly glancing over his own once more before meeting her wide eyes with his own. “If you want to live, punch me in the face.”

She hesitated. “It’s okay,” he reassured her, turning and tilting his cheek toward her in invitation. “I’ve had worse.”

“How is anything worse than a caped stranger attacking you in the middle of the parking lot, begging you to punch him, and ruining a perfectly good carton of chocolate milk?!” She spoke with large gestures and a hissed whisper.

He turned his face fully toward her, grinning slightly. “Well, when you put it that way….”

She almost smiled. Almost. Until a pair of red eyes glowed behind the stranger, not far away.

Looking back to him, her eyes going wider than she thought possible, she let out a scream that was both terror and a war cry before punching the caped stranger straight in the nose.


	3. Chapter 3

**She made her way into the apartment, still flicking through her phone as she let the door shut behind her and absently tossed her keys into the bowl on the counter. A few seconds later, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke her attention from the screen, startling her into jumping slightly. "You scared the..." She began, drifting off as her attention shifted from his guilty smile, to the space that was being occupied behind him.**

“Derek, you didn’t?” she stated more than questioned, taking in the scene behind him. 

He looked down at the floor and blushed, scuffing his foot softly like a little kid as he grinned widely, trying to tuck it into his shirt, nodding gently. “I knew it was important to you, so-”

She cut him off with a kiss, quick and sweet, before turning in his arms to take in the sight, her own snaking around his waist. 

“I love it.” Her voice was soft and full of wonder, much like the feeling Derek felt as he watched the reflection of the lights twinkle and dance in her eyes, more beautiful than any blue, yellow, or red glow could ever be. 

Kissing the top of her head softly, he mumbled into her hair as he looked to the tree himself. “Merry Christmas, baby.”


	4. Chapter 4

**"Why today? Of all days?!" She exclaimed, "I mean couldn't this have waited until-oh, I don't know- WE AREN'T BEING PURSUED BY DERANGED BOUNTY HUNTERS?! Jeez! Priorities, dude..." She groaned, tiredly leaning her head back and dragging her hands down her face.**

“No! It can’t wait any longer. I have to know!”

“Stiles-”

“Hut-tut-tut!” He held a finger to her lips, shushing her. The heavy footfalls of boots coming down the hall made her eyes go wide and Stiles spun her quickly, pulling her back close to his chest, his hot breath right in her ear. “If you don’t answer me, and-” His voice changed demeanor slightly. “If I hear one more word complaining about how we are running for our lives from a bunch of paid assassins, I will push you out into the hall.”

Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t?” She hissed, more a statement than a question. 

He leaned his head from side to side, as if weighing the question, before shaking his head. “Well, no. But I gotta know!” His hissed whisper sounded five years old. “Team Captain America or Team Iron Man?” She huffed. “We are at war here! Who’s side are you on, soldier?!” She turned her head slowly to meet his eye. “Right. Sorry. Shutting up now.”


	5. Chapter 5

**"I swear. You mention this ever again and I'll murder you." She warned threateningly, once his initial bout of laughter had died down. Her statement didn't seem to phase him however, as the boy merely smirked, his eyes shining with mischief as he leant back on the couch, folding his arms across his chest before attempting to speak. He'd barely uttered a syllable before being cut off by the girl. "Not one word. Don't test me on this, Lahey."**

An awkward silence hung between them, sparking, teeming, boiling over with things just waiting to be said.

Isaac was biting his bottom lip in an attempt to hold back either laughter, or a witty comeback, or possibly both, but he didn’t succeed for long.

“But I just have to know,” he said innocently, his voice and mischievous eyes anything but. “Do you always do this when you’re alone in the loft?”

If looks could kill. Staring him down, the menace in her eyes only seemed to fuel his smirk. “Not always, but yes. Often. But it’s not as bad as you, Mr. Pogo Stick. I swear to God, you are a child. Jumping on the bed? Really, Isaac?”

“Oh, pah-lease. You just slid in here in socks, gym shorts, and a shirt you apparently stole from some dude, because it is way too big on you, backwards, sweeping the floor, all to the beat of that stupid radio station that plays the same damn songs over and over, and sang into the handle of the broom like a mic!” You were about to protest, but he stopped you. “I’ve been here for fifteen minutes. I saw it all. You can’t deny a thing.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Y/n shot a glare at him as he let out a snort at her words, seemingly finding her simple query somewhat entertaining. "What?!" She asked impatiently, throwing her arms up before once again folding them, her foot tapping steadily against the floorboards. "Nothing! Nothing-" he grinned, "it's just... I mean that was about as subtle as a stampeding elephant in the library."**

Her foot stopped. “Really? You have any choice of an analogy, and this is what you came up with?”

“I’m working on short notice!”

“It’s called being witty. Thinking on your feet. Sarcasm.”

A delayed beat as his eyes shot to the corner briefly in thought. “I haven’t had coffee yet.” It came out as more of a question.

She huffed and turned back to face the doors. “Make all the excuses you want. Long story short, you’re analogies are about as… As….” She closed her eyes, looking to the ceiling briefly, setting her jaw in disbelief of what she was about to say, before looking back forward with a huff. “Subtle as a stampeding elephant in the library.”

“But at least my comebacks are faster than the crack of a bullwhip.” He mumbled the words quickly, almost imperceptibly.

Without warning he let out a short lived screech as she tackled him to the floor from the side.


	7. Chapter 7

**"What do you mean?!" Y/n shouted at Scott. Scott just stood there feeling terrible; he had to do this for her own good. "Scott. Please!" "Y/n, I need to go." Scott turned and started walking away from the crying girl, " Did you ever even love me?!"**

He stopped, his shoulders stiffening from the question, a figurative raising of his heckles, he figured, as they rose with the tension. “Do you really even have to ask?” 

His question was quiet, and he was faced away from her, but he knew she heard. She always heard. He started to study the sidewalk under his feet. 

“Yes. Yes I do. Because you can’t just waltz in here one day, say you’re taking off with your friends, oh by the way, they’re your pack, and, oh, while we’re at it, by the way, you’re a werewolf!” She laughed maniacally, and somewhat sarcastically. “And not just any werewolf. An alpha. Some whoop dee doo special one at that. Then, while you’re on a _roll_ with the sharing game, you mention you are taking your pack off on a mission, and I have to stay here to stay safe.”

“It’s not that easy!” Scott cried, gripping his helmet as he felt his pulse rise. He began to yell. “It’s not safe! No one near me is safe! No one in this God forsaken town is safe! This entire world is just filled with things waiting around every corner, things that want to hurt anything that moves, and sometimes, especially the thing that is closest to me.” His voice had died down, and he looked at his reflection in the visor of his helmet, distorted from the shape, but two unmistakable glowing red eyes stared back at him. “I’m a monster. It’s safer if you’re nowhere near me.”

Suddenly she was right behind him, startling him as she set a hand on his jacket clad shoulder. “What makes you a monster, Scott?” Her voice was quiet. “The glowing eyes, the teeth, the fangs? Claws? Pointy ears? Take all that out of context, and it just sounds like I’m talking about an evil elf.” She chuckled, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I know _you_ , Scott McCall. And _you_ are no monster, despite what that reflection tells you.” 

He realized she was staring right into his glowing eyes in the reflection, her angle making her clear as day in the reflection. No distortion. But she looked so far away from him. So far behind him, despite the hand still resting on his shoulder. 

Looking to her hand before meeting her eyes with his own, which he couldn’t seem to turn off, he put a hand over her’s. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He turned, removing their hands from his shoulder, keeping a firm grip, as he turned and held it between them, looking her straight on. And slightly down. She was shorter than him, and he loved it. “Because I love you.”

“Then take me with you.” Her voice, though small, was strong. “I know for a fact you take Stiles, and he is a human. So is Mason. So was Allison.” His grip tightened with the last name. “Even she was fully equipped, and a strong, heroic warrior, Scott. And sometimes, you just don’t get the hand you want. But you have to play with what you’re dealt. I’m safer by your side than alone here. I’m your wild card, Scott. Please take me with you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**"Damn it." As all eyes in the room turned to Scott, he glanced up from his phone, "I left the file at work, I must've forgot it after that German Shepard came in." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Lydia grabbed her purse from where it sat by her feet, before getting up from the couch, "You go on, I'll grab it, Deaton's still in right?" Scott nodded in reply, breathing a 'thanks' as Lydia turned to the others, "Anyone want to come? Y/n?" Y/n, who was usually up for a drive, shook her..**

> **…head. “If you don’t mind I’d rather sit this one out,” she replied, pausing momentarily before continuing in a casual mumble, “I-uh mayy have a slight fear of dogs…” The room fell silent, apart from the sound of Stiles hacking as he apparently choked on a potato chip. // Sorry that this is two long and probably wrong and awful! I just thought I’d give it a shot! xx**

The silence was deafening. Eyes darted to one another in amusement.

“You do realize that technically you are surrounded by dogs right now, Y/N?” Scott spoke through laughter he tried to bite back.

“Yeah, but you guys don’t count. You’re all like, my fluffy cuddly little puppies.”

A groan resounded around the room in protest.

“I see your point, Y/N,” Lydia said with a smirk. “Be back in a flash!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Derek shook her hand from his tensed shoulder, still refusing to face her. "I told you to get out." He growled lowly. "And I told you no," she replied firmly, "I'm not going to leave you here, especially not when you're like this."**

When he still didn’t answer after a long minute, she crossed her arms, Derek sighing because he could feel what was coming radiating off of her in waves. Her impending sarcastic tone emotes it’s own scent - inevitable defeat. “Remember when you explained being a werewolf to me?”

He huffed. “How could I not? When you first saw me in the woods instead of running like a normal person, you karate chopped me in the face, and broke my nose.” He laughed softly despite himself, leaning over the table in front of him, resting on his palms, hanging his head slightly with a gentle shake before looking out the windows again. 

Softly laughing herself, he felt his resolve begin to crack. “And you gave me this whole spiel about how ‘you were predators, but didn’t have to be killers’, so I was safe, blah blah blah.”

“Is there a point coming to this?” Derek interjected, turning his head to look at her. 

Her jaw hung slightly open. “Rude,” she said quietly, causing his grin to twitch up once more in betrayal. “My point is, while you may be predators, but not killers…. Does that also apply to being an asshole?” He narrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion. “Like, ‘we’re werewolves, but that doesn’t mean we have to be assholes’.”

He had no response, so he looked back out the window. Finally after a moment, he spoke his mind, softly. “It’s my fault.”

“Derek, no it’s not. They knew what they were getting into-”

“No! I didn’t tell them everything! I forgot- God!” He slammed his palms down on the desk, hard, and she could have sworn she heard splintering from some part of it. “I forgot one little detail and now they’re-”

“Derek. Calm down. It was just-”

“My pack, Y/N!” He whirled around to face her, not shifted, but menace in his eyes. She began to back up slowly, just a little. “Because of me, they’re all dead!” His voice echoed off the walls of the loft, booming and terrifying. 

A cough behind her made them both snap to face the voice. “Um, are we intruding?” Isaac asked from the doorway, the rest of the pack peeking over and around him. “Interrupting something?”

“No!” She stated, overlapping Derek’s “Yes!” Making the two of them look to each other. 

She huffed. “Derek is just being a sore loser, as per usual. Weight of the world on his shoulders and all.” She pulled her lips into a tight, sarcastic smile, reaching out beside her to gently pat Derek’s shoulder. “You, know, alpha problems.”

Her hand rose and fell as Derek huffed and she didn’t dare look at him, knowing she would die by proximity to those sharply raised eyebrows. 

“Dude, it was just laser tag. Chill,” Isaac said as he came into the loft and plopped down on the couch. The rest of the pack filtered in behind him, flopping onto any open surface in the middle of the loft, and talking excitedly about the game of laser tag they had all just finished. 

“'Alpha problems’?” Derek’s voice, now somewhat calmer, and even slightly amused, right in her ear made her jump. 

She smiled. “Yeah, that’s right. I said it. Deal with it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Y/n's hair was a bed headed mess, and she was fairly sure she had a shoe from a different pair on each foot as she blearily made her way toward the jeep. She dragged a hand down her face before attempting to clamber in, but her general clumsiness combined with the fact that she was barely awake resulted in her tripping and almost face planting. "Ah there she is," Stiles chuckled all too smugly as the girl glowered at him, "face of an angel, grace of a small, drunk giraffe."**

She snorted, despite herself, a smile climbing up her face as she tried to hide it behind something between a whine and a groan. “Stiles!”

“And the voice of a newborn elephant. Aren’t you a vision in the mornings,” Stiles said with a smirk, looking down to where she rested, her elbows on the floorboard, propping up her head cradled in her hands as she blinked slowly back at him. He made no effort to move or help her. “Just reach up and grab the handle.” He leaned forward slightly, a sarcastic nod bouncing with his words. “It’s what they’re there for.” He fell back in his seat, making the Jeep rock gently, and earning a renewed moan of protest from the awkward human being attempting to crawl into his car. 

Reaching up with a whimper, she searched blindly for the handle, grasping at air several times before Stiles reached out and gently whacked her hand in the right direction right as she went to grab at air again, wrapping her fingers tightly around the handle. Her eyes opened wide in excitement and a small cry of triumph escaped her lips as she smiled broadly. “Found it.”

Stiles mimicked her in a ridiculous voice, earning a smirk in return. “Don’t mock me, Stiles. You’re the one that wanted to do this whole, ‘early morning stake and evade’ thing. And on a Saturday, no less.” She air quoted the title softly, her raspy morning voice slowly giving way to her full, normal, sarcastic tone. “What is the purpose of this again?” She asked, scrunching her face up in confusion. 

“And now the awkward bunny face has arrived. She’s almost fully awake, folks!” He started the Jeep, shifting it into gear, but keeping his foot on the break as he looked at her. “I think we should take evasive maneuvers and try to find evil and get rid of it on the weekends so we have the entire school week without problem.”

A beat. “We are never going to have a full week without problem, Stiles.”

“Ah!” He pointed at her, his loud cry overlapping his name, and effectively cutting her off. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it!” He began to drive but quickly stepped on the break again and looked at her as she sighed. They had moved a whole two inches. “Maybe not a whole week, okay? But maybe we can make Monday’s feel like our weekend, okay? Just, give me this. Once. Just once.”

She side eyed him for a moment before speaking. “Where’s the pop tart you promised me?” He plopped it into her hands without question. She opened it and began eating, stopping mid chew when she saw Stiles make a face. “What?” She asked around a mouthful of the pastry, a few crumbs flying with her words, Stiles watching them over dramatically. 

“Are you not going to wait and toast them first? You’re eating them raw? What are you, an animal?”

She scowled at him, and after a moment more he cleared his throat as he stared straight ahead. “And now that the Sour Wolf face is here, you are fully awake and ready for action.” He punched the gas, wincing as the tires screeched in the quiet morning air. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Of course Stiles would call you to research at midnight. You being the lovely girlfriend you are almost unwilling said yes. So here you are laying down on Stiles floor at two in the morning basically asleep. You wanted to stay up for Stiles but in your defense it was two in the morning. You were just going to get up when you felt someone lay a blanket on you.**

Looking up, you were met with Stiles’ sweet eyes, going slightly wider in surprise when he saw yours staring back up at him, before they melted as his face turned up in a soft, sleepy grin. 

Bending down and scooping you up, he made the short journey over to his bed, shushing you when you began to protest. “Stiles, I was just making headway on-”

“You were just snoring your ass off,” he said softly. Your eyes went wide in mortification. “For the last thirty minutes.” He smiled widely and chuckled softly as you pulled the blanket over your head with a groan, feeling him set you down on the bed. 

Peeking out from the edge of the cloth as you felt his warmth disappear, you watched, your eyelids growing heavy once again, as he made his way to his desk, grabbed his laptop, and returned to his place beside you, and you instantly burrowed into his side. 

“Well, hello eager beaver,” he chuckled, raising his arm to look down at you before wrapping it around your shoulders so he could still type. Running his fingers through your hair after a moment, and reaching down to kiss the top of your head, he smiled as he felt your breathing even out. “Sweet dreams.”


	12. Chapter 12

**"Isaac? That you?" Y/n questioned as she made her way down the hall and toward the dim glow of the laptop that was illuminating the room. "Couldn't sleep." He mumbled from his position on the couch, tilting back his head to smile tiredly at her. "Why didn't you just wake me?" She asked, ruffling his hair a bit, "and why are you watching..." She paused as she leant further over the back of the couch to peer at the screen, "...Dance Moms??" She blinked a few times, turning her head-**

>  ** **-slowly toward him. “Oh shut up.” He groaned, whacking her with a pillow, “Peter was watching it when I came in here.” It was then that a familiar voice from the other end of the couch made her jump. “Pffft, he loves it,” Peter dismissed with the wave of his hand, which was sticking out of the curled up mass of blankets that he’d supposedly cocooned himself within.****

The hand disappeared as suddenly as it had come, back under the blankets, and she grinned as Peter wriggled around trying to make himself comfortable once more, eyes trained on the screen. He was like a foul mouthed five year old as he fidgeted and cursed under his breath about one thing or another being too something. 

A groan from the chair next to the couch startled her, making her head snap that direction, Isaac and Peter following lazily along with matching grins. “Derek fell asleep about an hour ago.” Isaac laughed a little. 

Suddenly, a loud salsa style tune started blaring through the speakers, and Derek sat upright, growling and clutching the arms of the chair until his knuckles were white, red eyes flaring as they flicked around the apartment. “What happened?! What is it?! What’s wrong?! Who’s dead?!” 

He looked over to see three faces staring at him as that salsa was blaring in the background. Isaac’s mouth was slightly parted, Y/N practically a carbon copy as she leaned over the back of the couch, resting on her elbows, and Peter’s mouth mimicked them for only a moment before snapping shut into a stone face, one arm suspended under the blankets, stuck in the air as he froze mid blanket shift. 

Derek huffed, ready for battle, and after just a moment, the other three burst out laughing. 

Hopping over the back of the couch, ignoring Peter’s complaints that she was sitting on his feet, and Isaac’s protests that this wasn’t a group thing, Y/N smiled as she watched the screen. “You fell asleep. It’s just a TV show. Nothing is wrong, except for maybe their rhythm. And nobody is dead. Yet.” She was still slightly bouncing on the cushion with risdual spring from impact. 

They all stared at her, salsa music still blaring. “Oh, shut up and watch your damn show!” She hollered, clutching a pillow close to her chest. 

Silence, and suddenly the three of them were complaining as Derek worked his way into the vacant seat at the end of the couch, opposite of Peter. “Move, you idiots! The glare on the screen over there is horrible, and I want to see this.” 

Huffing, she climbed up to sit on the back of the couch, giving Isaac and Peter some scooting room. She shivered from the lack of body heat around her up here, and jumped when a blanket suddenly landed in her face. 

Glancing down, Isaac and Derek were enthralled with the show, so she chanced a glance at Peter and to her surprise, he was just as enthralled as they were, but without looking away from the screen, he held a finger to his lips silently, telling her not to mention it, and after another brief moment, he looked at her with a kind smile and winked. 

Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she smiled. 

“Oh!” They all cried, gesturing to the screen, Peter a bit delayed. 

Isaac and Derek turned to talk to Y/N about what had just happened, and noticed the blanket, stealing one each from Peter, leaving him with the smallest, thinnest of them all. 

Glaring up at her, he smirked as he mumbled, “Last time I’m ever nice.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**"Soooo, Scotty boy..." Y/n began leaning forward in her seat to stick her head in between the heads of both Scott and Derek, who was driving. "Yeah?" He replied, glancing at her with the cautious suspicion reserved for being called by this nickname in particular. Nothing good ever seemed to follow 'Scotty Boy'. "So where are we with all this 'supernatural' shit? Like, centaurs, yeah? Met any yet?" She palavered on, mostly to herself, as Scott couldn't seem to get a word in edgeways once-**

> **she got going, “Or elves? I’d love an elf as a friend. Or ghosts-WAIT HOLD UP-” she exclaimed suddenly, grabbing the shoulders of the seats on either side of her, causing Derek to break suddenly and the three of them to lurch forward; Scott held his breath, Derek’s shoulders were tense and his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel, a moment of silence passed, then; “-can you guys like, see ghosts?” She all but whispered, as though she was worried the ‘spirits’ themselves might be listening in.**

> **I know that was for sure over 5 sentences! I’m sorry I got carried away, it’s probably a right mess as well hah xD**

Chancing a glance at Derek, Scott knew it was taking great restraint to not snap at their friend.

Looking back to her, her eyes were shifting all around the interior of the car, darting as if maybe if she were quick enough, she’d catch a glimpse of a ghost as well.

“No, we can’t see ghosts,” Scott said. “Or, at least I don’t think we can. Derek, can we-”

“No, we can’t see ghosts!” Derek practically shouted before taking a deep breath with his eyes closed, exhaling, and looking to Scott. “If she doesn’t stop talking, I’m going to have to make her.”

A glance at Scott, and she slowly eased back into the backseat once more, Derek hitting the gas once again. Her head appeared between them slowly, cautiously, and she hesitated a few times before leaning forward and speaking in an exaggerated whisper to Scott, “Does that mean he can control things with his mind?”

Derek let out a low, rumbling warning growl and stomped on the accelerator, throwing her back into the backseat.

He looked at her in the rearview mirror with a smirk. “Nope. I just use gravity.”


	14. Chapter 14

**"Stop it." The girl snapped frustratedly. "Stop what?" He sighed. "Looking at me like that. Like you feel sorry for me, like I'm talking nonsense."**

“But you are!” He laughed through his shout, arms flying out to the side before falling to his sides with a slap as he groaned in frustration.

“No, I’m not! I know what I saw! All the clues are right there-”

“Yes, they are! And somehow you ended up at the wrong conclusion!”

“How?” She crossed her arms. “How did I meet the wrong conclusion, Stiles?”

“Because Luke is not the Chosen One!”


	15. Chapter 15

**"-No, No! I'm not saying you were in the wrong! I'm simply suggesting that maybe-maybe there could've been a better, calmer way to handle the situation.." Stiles babbled defensively, hands raised in surrender, as if anticipating another verbal explosion. She scoffed at this, both eyebrows raised. "Better?! Calmer?! What the hell would you've SUGGESTED that I do instead brainiac?!"**

“Well, first of all,” he held up one finger, “that attitude,” he pointed the finger at her, “has gotta change.” He brought the finger to poke himself in the chest. “Because this brainiac ain’t gonna take none of that shit.” 

She opened her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut when no rebuttal wanted to come. Setting her jaw stubbornly, she rolled her eyes at the smirk her silence brought to Stiles’ face. 

“Secondly,” he held up two fingers, “tackling and punching,” he paused, leaning his face a little closer to her’s along with emphasizing the word, “repeatedly,” he pulled back to stand up straight once again, “was not the best tactic to chose, especially given we didn’t even know what the hell kind of thing we were looking for. But I am fairly certain that bag boy at the market was not it.” 

“He seemed off!” She countered. “He kept staring at me, and found excuses to help me randomly all throughout the store, and tried to talk to me like we had known each other forever!” 

“Oh my God,” Stiles mumbled, dragging a hand down his face, before his gestures became wide and exaggerated as he practically shouted. “He was hitting on you, Y/N!” 

A beat. “What?” Her voice was small. 

“You know…. Flirting! He liked you. Now, after that last escapade of yours, I’m not thinking he’s feeling it so much anymore.” 

“I- I’ve never had anyone hi- I never- Really?” She had gone from sarcastic and loud to quiet and shy in two seconds flat. 

Stiles smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the Sheriff’s office. “Yes, really. Because, thirdly,” he held up three finger and she quickly bat them away as a small smile made it’s way up her face. “You’re a little rough around the edges, but you are one hell of a girl, my friend. You throw a mean right, well, and left, hook, and you don’t give a shit. You’re you. And you’re one of a kind. And that is why you will forever and always be my favorite person.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Just don’t tell Scott. He gets jealous. He’s very territorial of me.” 


	16. Chapter 16

**"You can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with! You have no authority or right to do that!" Y/n argued, her voice almost reaching the point of shouting. "I have the right to step in when I think you might be in danger y/n!" He fired back, throwing his hands up before letting them slap back down to his sides, "Just stop this already! You know what their deal is!" He scoffed somewhat scornfully, "Besides, the only reason you're even doing in the first place is because you're angry with me."**

“I’m not in danger! It’s just-”

“‘Just’ is simply a word you use to make a bad thing sound slightly less bad,” Derek countered. “It’s like ‘but’. 'The bite may kill you. But it may not.’ See? It’s only a way of lessening the blow of something you know is bigger than it needs to be.”

“But, Derek, seriously! This is only-”

“It’s only to get back at me for last night!”

A silence, a stare off, and and awkward cough before Scott spoke up from the couch, the rest of the pack around him averting their eyes and finding interesting specks to stare at on the walls or ceiling. “So does this mean Y/N’s invitation for movie night at the loft is revoked?”


	17. Chapter 17

**"If you don't cut it out I swear..." The girl warned, she was agitated and her patience was wearing thin. He only grinned at this, left eyebrow raised, "You swear what? You'll threaten me to death? Glare at me until I turn to stone? Grit your teeth until I disappear? I have to say I'm a little intrigued."**

Trying to respond was difficult, as she found herself doing all the things he mentioned, which only forced her agitation to grow, which only made her do more exaggerated versions of those things. 

“Poking you is so much fun,” he said with a grin. “You get so agitated if I push just the right buttons.”

“Yeah, well, quit poking, Lahey. Or you’ll find the button that unleashes Hells Fury.”

“Ooooo…. Sounds so menacing coming from Tinker Bell, here.”

He didn’t make it any further than a scream of surprise as she swept his leg out from under him, and continued on down the hall as if nothing had happened. After a few steps, she looked back over her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Lahey? Trip on that wit of yours again? Gotta be more careful how you-” she was cut short as she slammed into a wall, still looking over her shoulder, Isaac’s laughter ringing down the halls to her ears. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Y/n was perched on the sofa, fidgeting incessantly, the drawstrings of her hoodie had been pulled so that only a relatively small gap was left. A relatively small gap that she was currently voicing her feelings through. "I hate it! I hate it! I HATE IT! Ihateitihateitihat-" She frantically ranted, before being cut off abruptly, "SHUT THE HELL UP! I'm dealing with it!" Derek snapped from across the room, a rolled up newspaper in one hand and a glass in the-**

>  ** **-other, his eyes trained on the source of the distress. “Clearly not very well.” Peter snarked, hands flapping and swatting at the air in his vicinity. At this point Isaac had taken one shoe off, and had it raised as a makeshift weapon. “It’s a quick little guy.” He remarked agitatedly, as the offender once again flew out of his reach. “I DONT CARE IF IT’S THE FREAKING FLASH-just-just kill the little shit before it kills us!” Isaac rolled his eyes at this, while-****

 **

> **-clambering to stand on a nearby stool,“Jeez, y/n. It’s only a wasp you wimp.” No sooner had the words left his mouth, when he let out a yelp at the sudden buzzing past his ear, causing him to duck and the stool to wobble precariously.**

**

Derek let his hands fall to his side as he took in his pack. His uncle flailing about in something he could only compare to reminiscent of Stiles, Y/N rocking back and forth on the edge of the couch cushion with her hands tucked tightly between her knees, mumbling through the quarter size hole in her hood, and Isaac teetering against death on the stool, reaching out to catch his balance, all over a damn bug. 

“Since when did-” he stopped, taking a deep breath, and letting it out in a huff. “Why did I get stuck with the pack of werewolves that is more afraid of bugs than death?” 

“BECAUSE BUGS CAUSE DEATH!” Y/N shouted, overlapping Isaac’s, “They are everywhere!” and Peter’s, “Are you serious?!” 

“Yes!” Derek bellowed, and they all stilled, Isaac ducking right as Derek was about to speak, glaring at the vacant air beside his head. “It was there, I swear,” he mumbled, wincing and leaning slightly in the other direction as the bug made an another apparent fly by. 

“My homicidal uncle, who was raised from the dead,” Derek gestured to Peter with the rolled up newspaper, and Peter held his arms wide in response, mumbling a, “What? I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“A teenager who likes to poke things with sticks until they snap,” he ignored Peter, moving on and gesturing to Isaac, who held his hands out wide like Peter, having to catch himself a few times as the stool wobbled, affecting his voice in a similar fashion as he retorted, “Aw, is some-” he caught his balance. “Someone jealous of my sarcastic-” He teetered again. “Wit?” 

Derek sighed, and gestured to Y/N, who had stopped rocking, and was staring down at her hands still firmly between her knees. “And this little runt over here who does everything she can to rile us up-” 

“I prefer ‘pip squeak’,” her voice came softly through the hole in her hoodie. 

“And then puts us all back together.” Y/N pulled her hood back just enough that her face was exposed, the drawstring still pulled tight, as she looked at Derek. 

“At least we don’t look like an upset teddy bear,” she said softly, making Derek raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah! Or look like a brooding puppy!” Isaac offered, causing Derek to turn his glare on him. 

Looking to Peter, Derek raised both eyebrows in question at the large grin on his uncle’s face. “You got anything to say about me?” 

“No,” Peter said giddily. “Well, yeah. What they said,” he pointed a finger at Y/N and Isaac. 

Derek tossed the paper down on the desk, setting the empty glass down with a loud clatter. “Well. Since you all seem to agree that I am merely an angry teddy bear, a brooding puppy, or all of the above, you can catch your own damn bug.” 

He walked out of the room, smirking as he heard their cries at his back, “What?” “No!” “This is no time for dramatics, Derek!” 

Walking past them all to walk out the front door, they had all resumed their frantic state from earlier, Y/N retreating into her hood, Isaac waving a shoe around, and Peter darting his eyes around the room frantically. He smiled as he closed the loft door behind him, hearing their muffled cries of terror through the steel. And all over a damn bug. 

“Oh, Derek,” he mused quietly to himself, making his way down the stairs, still smiling. “What did you get yourself into with them?” But try as hard as he might, he couldn’t think of a better pack- No, friends. No, that still wasn’t it. Reaching for the door handle of his car, he chuckled as he heard blood curdling screams from up in the loft. 

They may be weird, unruly, and sometimes downright creepy, but he couldn’t think of a better family to come home to. 


	19. Chapter 19

**"What're you watching?" Isaac poked his head around the door of her room before stepping in and nodding in the direction of the open laptop in front of her. "Harry Potter," she answered, barely glancing up at him from where she was lying on the bed, her head resting on the palm of her hand, "also, ever heard of knocking?" He shrugged, "It's not like you were changing or anything." "Could've been." "Would've heard." Isaac smirked smugly as he flicked his ear, "Now, scoot over, yeah?"**

>  ** **Y/n groaned irritably, letting her head drop and burying her face into the sheets beneath her, “Get your own damn movie wolfboy.” She complained. “Ouch y/n. That really stings coming from you.” He mocked, moving toward the bed and prodding and nudging at her persistently, “Besides, I like this movie! Gryffindor rules.” There was a muffled mumble from beside him. “Yep, didn’t quite catch that.” At this she exhaled loudly and dramatically before raising****

 **

> **her head from the bed and turning to face him once more, clearing her throat before clarifying, “I said-‘hah, coming from a Hufflepuff’.” His smugness fell and his expression morphed into something between incredulous and somewhat amused. He scoffed, “Me? What does that make you?! We both know that out of the two of us you’re the most Hufflepuff in this relationship.” Y/n wriggled her way into a half-seated position, “Okay first off, Gryffindor, duh-” she gestured to herself in a sweeping**

> **motion, “and last off, WRONG, AND I wasn’t aware this was a relationship.” She finished with a snarkily raised eyebrow. He scowled, “Shut up. You know what I meant. Also, Gryffindor my ass! If I don’t make the cut, you sure as hell don’t.” Then a purposeful cough from the entrance of the room silenced the bickering as the attention shifted to Peter, who was casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.**

> **That should be it, unless myself or tumblr have goofed something up (which is also pretty likely) xP**

> **I think it was four long? I think. And it turned into a roommates one, the last bit I did ended with Peter showing up. Sorry it’s a bit of a weird one! xP**

**

“What do you want?” Y/N snapped, pausing the movie. 

“Well, as a long standing Slytherin, it’s to my advantage to hear this conversation. Find some weaknesses. You know. Be evil and stuff. So continue.” 

After staring at Peter in disbelief for several seconds, Isaac turned back to Y/N. 

“As the only Gryffindor in this house, I also request you continue.” Derek’s voice startled them both, suddenly noticing him leaning on the doorframe opposite Peter. 

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Okay. Give me five examples of you showing the traits of a Gryffindor,” he prodded with a smirk. 

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m brave-” 

“You run away from spiders,” Isaac countered. 

“You all do,” Derek said with a smile. 

Y/N glared at Derek as she continued. “Daring-” 

“You’ve ordered the same thing every time we go somewhere,” Peter observed. 

“And since when do any of the three of you vary your order?” Derek asked. 

A low growl came from Y/N before continuing. “Chivalrous-” 

“And you never share any of the food you have left over,” Isaac added. 

“I sound like a broken record,” Derek mused quietly. 

Y/N sat up straight. “And I am courageous.” 

“You won’t go into the woods alone.” All three men said it at the same time, sharing an odd look. 

“Because I know things like you are in there!” She cried in protest. 

“Ouch,” Isaac said with a chuckle, holding a hand to his heart in mock insult. “If anything, I say we are both Hufflepuff.” 

“And you are also one of those ‘things’, darling,” Peter said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“Get out,” she said flatly, pointing to her door. “All of you,” she added, looking to the two seemingly permanent fixtures of werewolves leaning in her doorway. 

“Oh, come on-” Isaac began. 

“Accio away!” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Scott gave a frustrated sigh, an attempt to calm down before turning to face the girl again, "I mean do you not get how stupid that was?!" She shrugged one shoulder slightly, glancing up at him, "You were the one who let me borrow your bike." He shook his head, "I thought you already knew how to drive it!" She stood up defensively, huffing, "I never said that." The alpha scoffed angrily, "Yeah? Well it was pretty heavily implied. You can't keep pulling idiotic shit like this!" -**

>  ** **\- Her hands were balled into tight fists, “Just keep out of it Scott. I’m not a kid! I can handle myself!” She snapped. Scott had moved closer to her, his jaw was set as he grit his teeth at her words, “Y/n! Parrish said you, a human with no automatic healing or increased resistance, or anything-were speeding, with no licence or a HELMET! I mean COME ON. What were you thinking?!” He’d thrown a hand up at this, eyebrows raised, emphasising his point. She sighed, a harsh glare fixed upon her-****

 **

> **-face and directed up at him. “I’ve got better things to do than waste my time with this Scott. I need to leave.” She turned, and started toward the door. “No!” His voice had finally reached the point of shouting, eyes flashing as he spat back, “You need to grow the hell up Y/N!”**

**

She stopped, lifting her head, and squaring her shoulders before she turned to face him. “No, Scott. You need to learn to let go.” 

He took a few steps closer to her, towering over her small frame. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His eyes still glowed, and his voice was low and menacing. 

“I’m not a paper doll, Scott,” she said quietly, but confidently, tilting her head to look up at him, straight in the eyes. “Think about it, Scott. Would you be this upset if I were anyone else?” 

His eyes went wide, the red fading from them as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, finally finding the words. “That has nothing to do with it.” His voice was soft and quiet. 

She reached for the handle, pulling the door open slightly. “I think it does, Scott. I may be Allison’s cousin, but that doesn’t mean I deserve any more attention or protection than anyone else in the pack. We share a last name, Scott. That doesn’t mean we share the same fate.” 


	21. Chapter 21

**"Sheriff, okay, just hear me out on this one, yeah? Technically, it shouldn't really count as vandalism if their wall is already an eyesore. With the state it was in, I mean anything would've been a major improvement." The Sheriff sighed wearily, while reaching across the desk to take the pens, that had begun serving as drumsticks, out of her hands. "Yes, well the law doesn't tend to take aesthetic preferences into account, y/n. But we've been through this-**

>  ** **-before.“ “I know but-” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening at something, as she casually tried to suppress a grin behind the back of her hand. The cop followed her gaze, although it didn’t really take a detective to work out what the cause of her distraction was. Stiles. Flailing, fumbling and then dropping the notepad he’d most likely been holding up to the window as his father suddenly locked eyes with him.****

 **

> **“It could’ve gone a lot worse.” He commented, in an attempt at being reassuring, but it came out as more of a question than he’d intended. She gave a harsh, humourless laugh. “How? How in the hell could it have been any worse? No, seriously, how? I’m dying to know.”**

**

“Well, for one,” he began, roughly gesturing to his son to come in without so much as a glance to make sure he saw. “I convinced them to not press charges.” 

“Well, that’s good news!” Stiles’ voice rang out from the doorway to the office. 

“Secondly,” the sheriff crooked a finger at Stiles, who cautiously approached the desk. “It could have been much worse, because….” 

He went to yank the notepad from Stiles, but his son pulled back, not wanting to hand over the evidence. After a small tug of war, the sheriff finally succeeded, sending Stiles flying backward from the force of an attempted tug, and left him sprawled on the floor in shock as the sheriff sighed, turning the notepad to her. 

“It could have looked like this.” The crudely drawn picture of his father with a handle bar mustache stared back at her as she let out a laugh, the sheriff smiling tiredly as he looked to his son. “At least you’re good at art. Unlike some people.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Y/n slowed her run to a stop, bending slightly and resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Until a sudden shrill blow of a whistle sounded loudly by her ear and she winced, taking a sharp swing at the offender beside her. "Ow! Well that's gratitude for you." Stiles huffed, backing away slightly, as he rubbed at his arm, "You," he paused, raising his eyebrows and pointing at her, "were the one who asked me to help you to pass gym." She straightened up fully,**

>  ** **“I’m really regretting not just asking Scott right about now.” She muttered, noting the stitch in her side. He blinked a few times, craning his neck forward as he gaped, “Now that was just uncalled for. Sheesh. Personally, I think I make a pretty damn good coach.” He crossed his arms, chin tilted upwards stubbornly. Y/n snorted,****

 **

> **“Stiles, 20 minutes ago, your ‘coaching style’- which you’ve been changing dramatically every 5 minutes- literally consisted of you yelling up at me that ‘to climb the rope you must become the rope, BE THE ROPE Y/N! You are more than just measly fibres braided together. YOU ARE ROPE. You must be AT ONE WITH THE ROPE.’” She imitated him, over dramatically animating her movements. “That’s solid advice!” He protested,**

> **gesturing with the arm that held the lanyard of his whistle, which caused it to swing dangerously close to y/n’s face, and then his own.**

**

“If that whistle comes so much as an inch closer to my face, I will smack you,” she threatened, though, it was probably the most unthreatening threat, since she was so out of breath, clutching her side, and making a face that was probably a rival to a grimace while eating a lemon. 

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Stiles chuckled cockily. “I am a freaking ninja, okay? You could never touch me.” 

She reached out and poked his forearm with her index finger. “Whoop. Would you look at that? Add ‘I’ve touch a ninja’ to my resume.” 

Looking between her finger and his arm where she had poked repeatedly, he reached out and waved the whistle in her face, stopping short with a brief cry of pain. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 


	23. Chapter 23

**''Isaac, please don't!'' you begged him. He just smirked at you and seemed really amused. ''No, Y/N, if you don't call Derek and tell him what you just did, I will.'' You looked at Peter with a face full of panic, but he just smiled in return. ''Don't look at me, I think he's right,'' he said.**

“Guys! All I did was order take out!” You cried, desperation in your voice. 

“On pizza night,” Peter countered. Leaning in closer to your face, he almost hissed through his smirk. “It’s tradition.” 

Right then the loft door slid open, and all three of you snapped your heads toward Derek, who was carrying three boxes of pizza, and, as always, stopped in his tracks when he saw you all looking at him. “What?” 

“Y/N ordered take out,” Isaac said in a singsong tone, like a five year old, being a tattletale. 

Derek sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, thank God,” he smiled before looking to you, walking over to the table with the spread you had ordered, letting the pizza boxes all but fall to a vacant space near the end. “I am so sick of pizza night.” 

“But it’s tradition!” Peter countered, almost pouting. 

Derek stopped dishing up his food, looked up at Peter from his hunched position bent over the table reaching for various dishes, his face void of any emotion except his raised eyebrows. “So is staying dead.” 

There was a beat before Peter grinned in defeat. “Point taken.” 

That night was known from then on as “Rule Breaker” night, and they rotated who got to choose the style of take out. If anyone ever chose pizza, they were sent to their room and it moved on to the next person on the list of rotations. Pizza night was rescheduled for the following night. 


	24. Chapter 24

**"You keep changing the subject when it gets brought up, and if I know you-which I like to think I do, that means you don't want to talk about it." Stiles reasoned, talking with his hands, as per usual. "Which, normally means that it's exactly what you need to talk about. And it's probably part of the reason behind why you've been so off recently. So, spill it. What's up? I can stand here all day if I have to." He mirrored her stance, crossing his arms. They shared a brief stare off. At around-**

>  ** **-the forty second mark, Stiles cocked an eyebrow at her. The obstinate pest clearly wasn’t about to just let this one go. She had no doubt that he could and would make good on his threat of staying put until she fessed up. Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes, “Fine! It’s just…” She faded off, throwing her arms up frustratedly, before letting them fall to her sides in defeat, as she scoured her brain for the right words to explain herself. “It’s just that, I know-****

 **

> **-that when this year ends, you all know what you want to do with yourselves, you’re ready to grow up and become proper adults and I’m, well, I’m just not.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, head tilted slightly downward, finding it hard to look Stiles in the eye as he listened patiently, “And then when summer hits I know it won’t be that long until you guys are all heading off to college while I’m stuck here in Beacon Hills. Practically on my own. It’s like, everyone-**

> **-else is moving on and you’re leaving me behind, y'know? And the thought of having to deal with that… It scares the shit out of me, so I’d rather just avoid it altogether.”**

**

“Well, you know me,” he said softly, smiling a small, but genuine smile, “I’m a fan of just avoiding the problem until it goes away.” He waved both of his hands in a miniature version of his typical over dramatic wave of dismissal. 

She sighed, a slight twitch of the corner of her mouth betraying her, and she let out a sardonic chuckle as she stared down at the sidewalk. “But see, that’s my problem. Er, dilemma.” She looked up at him, her smile turning rueful as her eyes started to glisten with unshed tears. “You all are my ‘problem’. And if I just avoid you all until ‘it goes away’, I’m still left here, standing on my own, and kicking myself over the time I could have, and should have, spent with you.” 

“Hey, hey, now,” he pulled her in close to him as the first tear rolled down her cheek, cradling the back of her head as she burrowed into his chest, shushing her gently as she mumbled muffled apologies into his shirt. Resting his lips on the top of her head, taking a deep breath to calm his hammering heart, and keep his own tears at bay, he muttered soft, reassuring words as the arm around her waist cinched tighter. 

“If you think for one second,” his voice was shaky, and he reach up from cradling her head to swipe at his nose and tears before giving up and giving in, turning so his cheek rested on top of her head and he spoke quietly near her ear, “that I, or any of us, would ever forget you, or stop caring for you, or move on from you, we have been doing something wrong.” Her arms wrapped around his waist cinched tightly. “You’re a member of the pack, Y/N. You’re family. And unfortunately that means you’re stuck with us all.” 

They stood in silence like that for several minutes, gently swaying, tears flowing freely as smiles started to climb their faces once again over exchanged sarcasm. Y/N was pulling away from Stiles gently, meeting his eyes and mumbling a ‘thank you’ when suddenly a pair of arms engulfed her from behind, reaching all the way around to Stiles’ shoulders, and the familiar smell of Scott bombarded her senses. Then Lydia. Malia. Kira. Liam. Everyone came and joined in the group hug as jokes were shared, tears were shed, and comforts given. She may not have been a wolf, but when they all came together, she recognized the familiar smell of home. 


	25. Chapter 25

**"Is Derek alright?" Kira asked, joining you by the kitchen counter, the rest of the pack spread sporadically across the loft after the obligatory semi-serious talk-y part of the meeting. "He seemed kinda snappy earlier, and moodier than usual. You guys good?" She asked, kindly concern flickering behind her eyes but quickly disappearing at your soft, amused chuckle. "We're good, and he's fine, you know what he's like. Him and all of his 'big bad wolf problems'," you smiled wryly as you chanced a-**

>  ** **-glance at him. He was standing by Scott and Isaac, nodding every once in a while at what was being said. He didn’t look particularly invested in the exchange and you wondered whether he was covertly tuned into your current conversation. Probably. The sneaky devil. Still, there was only one way to find out for sure, you supposed, a mischievous smirk settling upon your features as you switched your attention back to Kira, who was smiling, though her eyebrows were raised curiously at your sudden-****

 **

> **-rascally expression. “But I reckon it’s got something to do with this weekend as well,” you continued, “Derek always gets extra pissy when his ‘time of the month’ is coming up.” Kira giggled at this as your eyes quickly flickered back over to where he was stood. He still wasn’t looking your direction but you could see that he seemed more tense, his jaw was set and he wasn’t even trying to look interested in whatever was being discussed anymore. Either it was total coincidence, or your plan to-**

> **-wind him up was working. You let your impish gaze return to the kitsune, who, from the way she was looking at you, could tell you were up to no good. Still, she humoured you, and continued to play along. “I could take him on any day though, bad mood or not.” You jokingly bragged, with a small shrug of your shoulders. “You sure you could take an Alpha on all by yourself? That’d be pretty impressive.” She mused with a grin, her head nodding slightly. You waved your-**

**

> **-hand dismissively, “Pffft, of course I could! I’ll have you know that his bark is by far worse than his bite, and if I were to need back up, which I wouldn’t, my dearest Kira, I know exactly who I’d call to come kick Derek’s ass…” You leaned closer to her, lowering your voice and peering from side to side; as if you were checking to see if you were being watched, before continuing in the most-**

> **-dramatically mysterious manner possible, “Have you ever heard… Of a devastatingly handsome lycanthrope… Who goes by the name… Miguel?”**

You didn’t have to look to know that Derek was blatantly staring at you now. Scott and Isaac fighting back laughter as they tried to stay focused on Derek and remain inconspicuous about listening in as well. But you did anyway. 

His jaw was set, his teeth grinding, gritting slowly as it locked from one side to the other. The veins in his neck looked like they were about to burst, and his fingers were curling into his biceps as he gripped them tightly, arms still across his chest. 

You raised an eyebrow mockingly at him, both of his shooting up nearly to his hairline almost instantly. “Geeze, Derek, you okay?” You said in attempted sincerity. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or ate a lemon, or some weird combination of the two.” A low growl rumbled and his eyebrows shot even higher, which you didn’t even think was plausible. “Careful. They might stick that way if you do it enough. Wouldn’t be so menacing with Mr. Snarky face walking around now, would you? No. You wouldn’t get to brood.” 

Slowly his eyebrows lowered. And lowered. And lowered. Until they were set in a tight knit of a scowl directed at you, red eyes glowing. You could only smirk. “Geeze, Derek. I didn’t mean you had to lower them that much. But, good boy.” 

The growl got a little louder, and he began to walk slowly toward you. You only leaned against the counter, eyebrow raised once again in challenge, noticing Kira had vacated the kitchen at some point. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, leaning into you, caging you in. He chuckled darkly, his eyes fading back to normal right before he leaned into your ear farthest away from the rest of the pack, who had busied themselves with preparing to leave, and whispered, “So I have ‘big bad wolf’ problems, huh? And you think you can take an Alpha on all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive. Why don’t you show me what you would do? And if you actually are right in saying my bark is worse than my bite.” 


	26. Chapter 26

**Y/n didn't mind the rare silence that had settled between them, they were comfortable in each other's company, always had been. It wasn't until she glanced over at him and glimpsed the look on his face, that she knew he was thinking about something bad. "Stiles?" She whispered, her hand finding his as her eyebrows creased with concern. The boy shifted his eyes to meet hers and stopped chewing at his lower lip. He exhaled deeply, letting his head hang for a moment...**

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” She asked, leaning her head down just a little to try and meet his eyes. 

As soon as she did, he moved his head to face the other direction, effectively avoiding her eyes once again. 

This went back and forth several times before she finally just grabbed his chin with her free hand, other still held firmly in his, causing his eyebrows to both raise and knit as he looked down at her hand before meeting her eyes. 

“What was all that about?” She asked after a moment, the silence going on for too long. 

His eyes went wide. “Oh, nothing, just….” His eyes narrowed mischievously. “My evil plan working,” he concluded, smiling impishly. “Now that you’ve got me, what’re you going to do with me?” This time his eyebrows went both up and down, but in a suggestive waggle. 


	27. Chapter 27

**The door to the loft shut with a slam as you stormed into the apartment, completely drenched and dripping from head to toe, leaving a trail of rainwater in your wake. Isaac-who had been lying on the couch, messing around with his phone until the sudden bang had caused him to jump and sit up abruptly-didn't even try to suppress his laughter at your misfortune. You narrowed your eyes at him, "Shut your damn pie-hole, Lahey," you snapped, crossing your arms defensively. He didn't though, -**

> **-a sly, sardonic grin forming on his face as he eyed you up and down. “Oh, I’m so sorry, it’s just kind of hard to take you seriously when you look like a drowned sewer-rat.” You growled, a droplet falling from the tip of your nose, which only set him off again. Before you could pounce on the aggravating pest, however, you were distracted by the thudding of footsteps on the nearby stairs, or more accurately by the person to whom the footsteps belonged. Peter let out a low, amused chuckle.-**

> **-“Well, well, well…” He drawled in his typical sinister manner. You scowled, bad temperately at him as he reached the bottom step and made his way toward you, no doubt revelling in the convenient opportunity to be an ass. “Don’t.” You warned gruffly, as you frustratedly swiped at a strand of hair that had stuck itself to the side of your face. “I swear to god, Peter.” But he, rather than taking heed, leaned forward and gave you a nefarious smirk. “Ah yes, I thought I smelled wet dog down-**

> **-here. This explains the stench.” Isaac practically snorted at this. You, on the other hand, felt your jaw tighten as you gritted your teeth, summoning your deadliest death glare and shooting it at the both of them. Peter shook his head, brows raised, “Oh-ho-ho y/n, y/n, y/n, if only looks could kill… I wouldn’t have to go to so much effort.” You felt your eyes flash briefly and you gave him a hard shove as you barged past him, “Go to hell Peter!” You snarled, only serving to amuse him more,-**

> **-aside from the damp patch you’d left on his jacket, which he’d grimaced at. He pivoted to face your direction, “Ahh, the irony. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, gave it back.” He flapped his hand in a dismissive manner at your retort, while you groaned in irritation, throwing yourself backwards onto the couch and dragging your hands down your face, before flicking the excess water from your fingers. Isaac scrambled to the farthest side of the seat, complaining that he ‘wasn’t-**

> **-pre-warned that he was in the splash zone.’ Meanwhile, Peter made a face, “Ugh. That’s a communal couch, you know. Don’t make us all suffer for your idiocy.” You rolled your eyes, “I honestly don’t give two shits about your crappy ‘communal couch’.” You bit back bitterly, then sniffed and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly aware of how cold you’d gotten, the air-con making the saturated clothing that clung to your body, lose any of the heat it had once retained. You began to shiver a-**

> **-little, just as you heard Isaac murmur, “You obviously don’t give two shits about staying dry either..” You cast your fellow beta a menacing look, “And as for you,” you jabbed your finger in his direction, “listen here and listen good, 'cause this is your final warning, wise-guy. One more peep outta you, and I’m gonna tackle you, kick your ass, shove you into one of the 'communal’ showers and see how you like being drenched in cold water. Capisce?!” The threat had barely left your lips when a-**

> **-deep laugh bellowed from behind you. Not even bothering to look, you slumped down in your seat petulantly. “Now, I hate to say 'I told you so’ but, I mean… I told you so.” Derek stopped behind where you were sat, his hands coming to rest on the back of the couch, to the sides of each of your shoulders. He leant forward slightly and peered down at you, though you refused to tilt your head backwards to make any form of eye contact with him. You could already picture his smug expression in your-**

> **-mind, and that in itself was annoying you enough already without having to bear witness to the real thing. “What was it you said again? 'Whatever Derek, it’s not going to rain just because you feel like it might.’” He mocked, quoting your words from earlier in the day, “I told you that you still should’ve brought a coat or an umbrella just in case-but no no, y/n’s far too stubborn to take someone else’s advice if it means her being wrong.” You huffed, kicking both of your feet up from the-**

> **-floor, before letting them drop back down with a heavy thump. “There were no coats or umbrellas that even remotely go with what I’m wearing! I didn’t want to look stupid!” You whined in protest. “And how’s that working out for you then?” Isaac snickered from beside you. That was it. The final straw. You lunged-or at least, you would have, had you not been deterred by Derek unceremoniously chucking a blue towel over your head; from where it had-**

> **-apparently been previously slung over his shoulder, totally obstructing your vision. You swatted blindly and uselessly at his hands as he proceeded to ruffle your now towel covered hair.**

You continued to swat at the towel, not daring to push your luck any further by swatting at your alpha’s hands, freezing at the sudden stop of the cloth that left you in darkness, and made everything a little muffled. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Derek said in mock sincerity. “Does this towel go with what you are wearing?” His voice was suddenly right beside your ear, his mocking tone causing you to growl lowly. “Wouldn’t want you to look stupid or anything.” 

Isaac and Peter both snickered, and you snarled. “Cut it out, guys!” 

“Oh! The towel talks!” Peter cried in pretend surprise, Isaac mimicking him through a chuckle, “Where can we buy these magic towels, Derek?” 

You didn’t even really know what you were doing, but in one fell swoop and an accompanying growl, you had swiped the towel off of your face, thrown it in Derek’s, risen from the couch, grabbed Peter and Isaac each by an ear, dragging them close with a smirk at their little whimpers of pain as you let just the tips of your claws come out to assist in your grip. 

You practically hissed through your teeth as you walked, “You two are the most annoying, most obnoxious, most irritating werewolves I’ve ever met.” Their protests were soon quieted as you let your nails extend a little longer, and began dragging them toward the bathroom. Once they realized your intentions, you quickly quieted them once again with a flash of your eyes. Looking over to Derek, who still held the towel clutched tightly to his chest, his expression was unreadable, some weird mixture of awe, amusement, and a tad bit of fear. “Derek, be a dear and open the bathroom door for me?” You lifted your hands slightly, tugging on your hostages ears gently, and smirking at their whimpers. “My hands are full.” 

“Derek, do what she says,” Isaac whispered exasperatedly. 

Peter attempted a nod of agreement, grimacing as he tugged his own ear in the process, speaking through a groan with his eyes closed. “Yes, please, Derek. Do what the she-wolf wants.” 

When Derek just blinked back, you turned toward the door quickly, dragging your roommates with you, and having to hide a smile. Giving a half hearted demonstration of a swing of your leg, you looked over at Derek. “Or, if you’re too busy gawking, I could just kick the door down.” You shrugged again. “It’s up to you.” 

“Will you please stop making her shrug, Derek?!” Isaac sounded more annoyed than anything. 

“Open the damn door, Derek!” Peter growled out beside you, sinking slightly as you dug your claws in deeper, and looking up at you with a sheepish smile, adding a soft, “Please.” 

Something in that exchange got Derek moving, and he walked over quickly swinging the door open, and tried to walk away, slowing to a stop at the sound of your voice. “Nu-uh. Now, please go in first and get the shower going on it’s coldest setting.” He glowed his eyes at you, but he still looked terrified. “Please?” You added, shrugging one last time, almost laughing at the mumbling you induced. 

He did what you asked, and hovered, not really wanting to piss you off anymore. Resigned to their fate, Isaac and Peter didn’t protest when you shoved them both under the cold stream. In fact, they took it in stride, and even inched closer subtly to try and maintain body heat. Taking the towel from Derek, you motioned with your finger, sneering. “Get in.” 

He hopped in without a question, earning raised eyebrows from the other two shivering werewolves. 

Drying your hair with the towel, scrubbing it roughly, you draped it around your neck, sniffing the air and making a face of disgust. “You all need to bathe more often. The stench of wet dog is overwhelming.” Peter growled at you, but it sounded funny through his shivers. “And since I am in the splash zone,” you smiled at Isaac, catching a snarl at the comment, and you slid the shower curtain closed. “I’m just going to do this.” 

Then, waking over toward the toilet on your way out, you let your finger hover over the handle. “And because the towel did not in fact match, here’s this.” Flushing the toilet, knowing the water in the shower would be instantly hot, you walked out of the bathroom laughing as they all scrambled out of the shower muttered curses and cries of surprise, along with thumping as they fumbled out of the tub and slipped and slid across the bathroom floor. 

They all stared at you from the hallway as you sat on the couch smirking. Drenched, they were making a puddle as they huffed at you. “Oh yeah. And because I’m evil. Sorry.” 

You almost fell off the couch laughing as thunder and lightning went off right as you said 'evil’, causing them all to look outside with a terrified expression. 


	28. Chapter 28

**"Hurry it along Stilinski!" Y/n prompted, turning to him from where she was positioned by the door and shining her torch at his face. He squinted, holding up a hand to block the beam, "Ugh. Cut it out! I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. And, I'll have you know this is a very delicate operation. Like looking for a needle in a haystack." Y/n scoffed, looking back over at him, "From the looks of it you'd have trouble finding hay in a haystack."**

He scoffed, laughing softly, a sardonic grin climbing his face as he paused his task briefly before resuming it once again with much more fervor and oomph for emphasis. “Is that some sort of attempt at a bad pickup line or something? Because if so, aw!” He drew out the last word sarcastically as he spun something extra hard with the wrench, pulling his hand to his heart as the grinding of the thing still spinning filled her ears. “You know just what to say to me.” He ended on a bitter note, reaching out to stop the thing before looking back to the task at hand. 

This time she scoffed. “No. You would know if I used a bad pickup line on you. Because it wouldn’t be bad.” He paused, and she froze, the awkward silence hanging in the air. “You know what I mean!” She finally said exasperatedly, waving her hands a little too emphatically. 

“Woah, unless you wanna signal the world to our little operation, quit flailing and shooting that little delinquent sign in the sky,” he chuckled, gesturing to the flashlight with a tilt of his head. “And it sounds like you’re the one who would have trouble finding hay in a haystack.” He was smiling now. 

“Haha, very funny,” she sneered, feeling a grin betraying her. 

He looked back to the task at hand with a sigh and a sly smirk. “Yeah, yeah, so I’m told. And I only meant it because from your usual perch, I’m pretty sure everything looks the same, and if not, there are far more better things to look at than hay.” 

“My usual perch?” She asked stiltedly after a moment. 

He stood up, brushing off his hands, letting out a satisfied sigh before he looked back to her. “Yeah. You know? From up in heaven?” 

A retort was on her lips as he flipped a switch, lighting up the area in something he had obviously taken hours to set up. 

She turned to him with a dropped jaw, and he smirked. “That must have been one hell of a view you had. Before your angel ass fell and graced us all with your effervescent personality.” 

She smacked his arm playfully, and he chuckled. 

“Hey! What? You know it worked. Don’t hate. I’m just born with a gift.” 


	29. Chapter 29

**"Can you at least agree that the 'S.O.S. This is an emergency. Please get here ASAP. Something bads happened.' text was perhaps SLIGHTLY fricking misleading?! Considering the fact that I ran three red lights to get here when you didn't reply to my texts or calls! For all I knew you were being brutally murdered, or worse!"**

Stiles had the decency to look sheepish, Isaac sinking back into his chair just a little, and you did a little bit of both as you went to take a sip of your slushy, only to realize it was nearly gone, and made that death rattle as the last few drops flew up the straw. 

“I’m sorry, Scott!” You whined. “But, dude, you have Stiles and I under house arrest for this one, which I don’t appreciate, by the way, even if this big bad is the biggest bad yet, being benched sucks, and Stiles and I may be human, but I wanna kick some bad guy ass!” 

There was a brief pause before Scott turned to the other two, an accusatory finger pointed your way. “How many of those has she had?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, chucking the cup into the trashcan across the room and making it in in one shot, Stiles and Isaac cheering before you turned back to Scott. “I’m out. Again. And the pizza’s gone, too. Since we can’t leave, and Isaac is not supposed to leave us alone or let us leave, and Stiles pointed out that the pizza delivery guy may be evil also, we called you.” 

“And, just FYI,” Stiles added, somewhat quietly, and apologetically, “the ’S.O.S.’ stood for ‘Sauce On the Side’, so, that one’s on you, Scotty boy.” 


	30. Chapter 30

**"Seriously?!" She hissed, "what the hell are we even doing right now?" "I didn't want us to look suspicious!" He argued, in an equally hushed tone. She rolled her eyes and scoffed lightly at him, "Yeah, because this looks far less conspicuous doesn't it?" She muttered sarcastically, earning herself a frown. "Quit being such a smartass, y/n. As if you could've come up with a better solution."**

“Yes. Yes I could have.” There was no room for argument in her voice. 

Derek left no room for misunderstanding in his stare he leveled on her. “Oh yeah? And how is that?” 

“Tell me, Derek. When was the last time you ever danced-” 

“I dance!” 

“Voluntarily-” 

“Last week!” 

“By yourself alone in the loft doesn’t count.” He glared at her again. “And neither does that hip shaky thing you do alone in the loft that you consider ‘dancing’.” She air quoted the last word with a smirk. 

The air was tense after their spit fire exchange, and Derek was huffing like he had just walked out of a battle. 

“I hate you,” he said, a slight up twitch of the side of his mouth giving way to his true sentiment. 


	31. Chapter 31

**It was sunny outside, but the chill still gave me goosebumps. I hate sundays, literally speaking. What should I do this "lovely" sunday? I have to go back to work tomorrow, so I can bake, at least. I was on my way to the kitchen, when suddenly there was a knock on my apartment door. I changed my direction to the door, and opened, only to be greeted by Peter. "Hello sweetheart" he smirked ...**

A low growl and a flash of my eyes was all I had to offer in return before slamming the door in his face. 

“Well, that was rude,” he said bluntly, muffled through the door, and a smirk was evident in his tone. As always. 

“So is showing up to someone’s house unannounced,” I mumbled, crossing my arms and turning back to the kitchen, stopping when I heard his chuckle on the other side of the door. 

“Don’t tell me you had better plans for this afternoon, sweetheart?” The sarcasm in his tone made my eyes roll involuntarily. 

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” I bit out, ignoring his chuckle. “And, yes, as a matter of fact, I was going to do some baking, thank you very much.” 

There was a pause. “As in, like, sweets?” 

I began to smirk. “Yes.” 

Another beat, then in a voice like a five year old, “Were you by any chance making the-” 

“Yes, I will slide some under the door for you.” I smiled. 

“Thank you,” a small excited voice returned, and I could picture the grin on his face. “Sweetheart.” 

“Nope. You ruined it. You only get one, slid under the door, without a plate or napkin.” 

I heard a dramatic gasp. “You monster!” 

“Oh, did you finally look in a mirror?” I paused preparing the ingredients, cocking my head to the side playfully, even though he couldn’t see me. 

“Touché,” finally came, defeated and smug through the door. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Having a highly superior sense of smell, while strange, could be useful. Some would say a gift, even, at times. But unfortunately for the quad of lycanthropes that were scattered around the hub of the loft, this time was not one of those. Peter sat up straight in his chair, his nose wrinkling slightly before he gagged. "Oh God, what IS that?!" He spluttered, grimacing. "You know what they say, 'the person who smelt it, dealt it'." Y/n replied drily from the kitchen counter, looking up from-**

>  ** **scrolling through her phone with an eyebrow raised, her voice sounding nasally as she pinched her nose closed. Peter rolled his eyes, and Isaac added, “Well, I heard that it’s the person who says the rhyme, that did the crime.” His words came out muffled, as his nose was burrowed into a couch pillow. She made a face at him shooting back a ‘shut up’ as Derek made his way across the loft, the back of his hand pressed against his nostrils, muttering something about ‘cracking open a few windows-****

 **

> **before someone passes out’. “You could’ve at least had the decency to vacate the area first.” Peter complained, glaring pointedly at the girl. She gaped at him in irritated disbelief, “Oh so you’ve just decided that it was me without any further inquiries? Are we really just going to ignore Fartacus over there on the sofa?!” Y/n’s free hand made a dramatic gesture to Isaac, who groaned loudly into his cushion, “I thought I told you never to call me that again…”-**

> **She simply shrugged, “If the shoe fits then you wear it Fartacus.” “It was one time!” He protested in exasperation. “My nose still hasn’t fully recovered!” She exclaimed, while ducking and narrowly missing being hit by a flying pillow at full speed.**

**

Popping back up with a grin and dry, “You missed,” she let out a little chuckle at the sight of Isaac, now pillowless, with the collar of his t-shirt pulled up to the bridge of his nose. “It looks like you are wearing a gas mask.” 

His eyes crinkled from his hidden smile. “Well, in a way, I am.” 

Y/N gagged. “God. It’s like I can taste it.” 

“So we can count on you as an authority on the taste of sh-” 

“Oh, bite me,” Y/N cut Peter off as she imitated Isaac’s shirt idea, glaring daggers over her collar. 

“Sorry. Derek already beat me to it,” he said, doing the shirt thing himself, and sighing in relief. 

Three pairs of eyes turned to Derek, the bottom halves of their faces missing in the shirts, and their eyebrows raised expectantly. “No. I am not doing that. You all look stupid. Like weird turtles, or something. I’m just gonna go out on the balcony.” And with that, three quick strides and he was outside. 

The three remaining all glanced at each other, Peter the only one to voice their thoughts. “Ah, the balcony! Why didn’t I think of that?” And after a pause, the three scrambled to the door. 

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the three immediately began gagging. 

“Oh, God,” Y/N said, “It followed us out here!” 

They all looked to Derek who had his shirt pulled up like they had, his eyes wide as he shrugged. “Don’t look at me!” He cried, voice muffled through the shirt. “The fresh air just takes off the edge. Maybe it’s a ghost.” 

Despite their better knowledge, the three betas exchanged worried glances, eyes darting around for the phantom farter. 

Y/N began backing up slowly. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna go look inside for the phantom stink bomb. And Derek, by the way, warn a wolf next time before you let off a silent ninja blast.” 

Peter looked at Derek with a disgusted look. “Yeah. And don’t blame us. I wouldn’t even do that, and I’m evil!” 

Isaac followed him inside, his only protest was, “Really? I get 'Fartacus’, and he gets something with the word 'ninja’ in it?” 

Derek could hear Y/N muffled through the windows, smiling into his shirt still raised. “Isaac, that’s a good thing. No one likes a stinky ninja.” 

“Do all Alpha’s smell that bad?” Isaac pondered, and Derek almost laughed out loud. He could feel them watching him through the windows as he looked out on the city skyline. 

“No,” Peter said, “I speak from experience.” 

“Peter, everything about you stinks to high heaven!” Y/N said, her voice deadpan. “There is no doubt in my mind that it is indeed an Alpha thing.” 

Peter scoffed. “You’re one to talk!” Y/N gasped and Isaac snickered. 

“Um, guys?” Isaac’s voice was small, timid. He whispered the next part. “It’s back.” 

Derek had to fight the urge to break down in fits of laughter. He turned his head just enough to peer over his shoulder, seeing the three looking around the apartment for the phantom smell. It was only a matter of time before they found the stink bomb he had hidden in Peter’s room. 

It wasn’t long before Derek heard Peter’s loud cry of, “Deerrrrreeekkkk!” from inside his room, shortly followed by Isaac and Y/N’s laughter and Peter’s angry footsteps. 

The balcony door swung open, and Peter was huffing, though his shirt was held above his nose, the stink bomb extended as far as his arm could go. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Derek smiled. “You’re gonna try,” he laughed lightly. 

It was worth it. 


	33. Chapter 33

**The door to Isaac's room carefully opened, creaking slightly, and Y/n made her way in, closing it behind her before padding over to where he was perched on the edge of the bed. She sat beside him and for a little while, neither spoke. He hadn't even looked in her direction, his gaze instead focused on a random spot on the wall, his jaw set firmly. "I thought I told you to piss off and leave me alone." He muttered. She nodded slowly, "Yeah, you did." Isaac sighed,**

>  ** **\- letting his head hang tiredly as he rested his hands upon his knees, “So why’re you here then?” The girl shrugged one shoulder before replying. “It’s been like two hours. I let you be. You’re still worked up. And you haven’t told anyone what’s wrong. I guess I just needed to know if you were okay.” Silence again. Then he straightened up, and casting a glance at her, mumbled, “I’m fine.” “I don’t believe you.” She interjected, her words almost overlapping his own.****

After a beat, his soft, “Why not?” was once again overshadowed by her, “Because I know you.” 

He hung his head again, smiling a little smugly, but it was a cover for a genuine smile. “I hate you,” he just chuckled and laughed as she overlapped him, grinning, “I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Why is it so important that you know?” He dropped his hand in a clatter to his lap, looking at her with tired eyes. 

She snorted. “Don’t be stupid, Isaac.” Shifting her weight slightly, she stood to scoot over, but ended up right back where she was, shoulder to shoulder with him. “Y-” she started before stopping to mull over her words, biting her bottom lip in thought as she stared at the wall in front of them. “You don’t just wake up from a nightmare like that, kicking and screaming, not talk about it and say you only need a glass of water to get over it.” She looked to him. “I know from personal experience, Isaac. And you know you can trust me.” 

A shared, quiet moment hung between them, understanding ebbing at the edges of their little bubble. She placed one of her hands on his, still resting on his knees, and surprisingly, he didn’t jump. It was comforting. It was everything the nightmare wasn’t. 

He looked from her face to her hand, and back again, before flipping his hand over and squeezing hers tightly, staring at it. “I’m just not ready, Y/N. I haven’t told you everything. Not yet. Maybe someday I will, but until then, just trust me,” he looked into her eyes, “and believe me when I say not yet.” 

She squeezed his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder, sharing a small smile. “I can live with that.” Comfortable, silent moments passed before she quietly asked, smiling, “So, do you still want me to ‘piss off’?” 

He smiled. “Nah. You can stay for a bit, I guess.” 

A few more moments. “Can I not ‘piss off’ and still lean on your shoulder in the living room so we can watch TV?” 


	34. Chapter 34

**"Stiles, please tell me that the real reason you invited me over wasn't just so that you could trap me into having a secret non-supernatural pre-meeting before the real pack meeting?" You raised your eyebrows expectantly, arms crossed, daring him to object to your suspicions. He swiftly averted his gaze, "Wha-No, I-Well the thing is th-Okay, fine! This is a pre-meeting meeting!" He sputtered, "But c'mon I've got a good reason for it! Us humans have to band together y'know? Prep ourselves for-**

>  ** **-whatever gets thrown at us! We’ve got to expect the unexpected!“ He insisted, his typical dramatic gestures in full flow to drive home the point he was seemingly trying to make. You were quiet for a moment, looking vaguely puzzled before responding. ”…But does expecting the unexpected not technically make the unexpected the expected though?” You mused. Stiles blinked once. Twice.****

“No, no,” he said haltingly, pointing a finger at you. “Because if expecting the unexpected makes it once again the expected, it is hence, by default back to being, unexpected.” 

You blinked once. Twice. Opened your mouth, pointed your finger at him, the start of a breath the only sound before you stopped abruptly, snapping your jaw shut, and diverting your eyes down beside his shoes in thought. 

“But if expecting the unexpected makes it expected, and thus, once again, unexpected, can’t we just assume that the unexpected knows we’re expecting it, so it’ll do what we least expect?” 

Stiles stood there, his arms held out wide but low by his sides, jaw hanging open, as he stared at you, then at the space beside your head, deep in thought, before returning his gaze to you. 

“I don’t even know anymore. Let’s just settle and say that expecting the unexpected makes it expected, so it’ll do something else unexpected, and it’s all just a vicious cycle, so let’s just be prepared for anything, okay? Capisce?” 


	35. Chapter 35

**The sunlight woke my eyelids up. I blinked a few times before I really woke up. I moved to my left side, finding only sheets. Then I moved to my right side seeing my gorgeous, asleep boyfriend Peter. He was so darn cute, I smiled. I started planting kisses along his jaw and neck...**

A low rumble of approval coming from his chest made me smile against his skin. “Good morning.” 

Looking up through my eyelashes, I met his eyes that twinkled mischievously. “Yes. Yes, it is a very good morning. And it’s about to get even better.” 

You sat up in bed abruptly, breathing heavily and sweating, staring wide eyed at the wall across from you before letting out a violent shudder. “What the hell….” 

The next morning, you shuffled into the kitchen, wiping your eyes as you plopped down in a chair at the table, Peter studying you over the brim of his coffee cup from his seat directly across from you. 

Finally, Peter spoke over his cup of coffee, his voice echoing into the nearly empty cup, “Well, _someone_ had a good dream last night based on what I heard through these pieces of cardboard Derek calls walls.” His eyebrows shot up as he smirked your way. 

“Nightmare is more like it,” you mumbled, picking at the waffles Derek placed in front of you. A quick glance into the kitchen showed he and Isaac trying very hard to ignore the conversation, but you knew if Peter heard something, so did they. But at least they were being decent about it. 

Peter scoffed. “Nightmares don’t make those noises. They may go bump in the night, but not like that.” He took a sip of his coffee. 

You looked back at Peter, right in the eye, and said in a complete deadpan, “It was you.” 

You had to duck down to avoid the spray as he spit his coffee out, luckily, having super speed finally paid off. Catching Isaac and Derek’s wide eyed expressions as they froze what they were doing, you just wanted to laugh. 

Sitting back up, you saw Peter wore a look of disgust before he went to say something, paused, and shuddered before he seemed to come to, schooling his features as he glanced into his coffee cup, sighing when he found it empty. He set it down with a clank and smirked at you. “Can’t say I’m surprised. It’s inevitable.” He shrugged. “When you’re as attractive as we Hale men are, it’s bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“Ew,” Isaac’s gaze followed Peter, his face disgusted as he watched him pour himself a fresh glass of coffee, reaching for Derek’s shoulder to give it a clap of recognition, only to stop short when Derek placed the spatula between he and his Uncle, not even looking at him as he said, “Will you please not lump me in with this disturbing discussion?” 

You laughed. “Am I really that awful that the two of you have to disagree so heartily?” You joked. “I’m a werewolf, too. I can smell things. I can see things.” All eyes were on you, and you shrugged, getting up to throw out the coffee spit covered waffles. “What? All I’m saying is any of you would be so lucky.” 

Isaac wouldn’t look at you as he spoke. “Yes. I can only hope that someday I find someone who looks as brilliant as you do every morning.” You caught your reflection in the toaster and grumbled as you shoved his shoulder, and he let out a gentle laugh before looking up at you. “Sure. Maybe someday. But right now,” he handed you a fresh plate of waffles with a smirk, “I’m just happy to be your waffle replacement guy.” 

You smiled and turned to Derek, but the spatula was already waving in warning. “No. I made the waffles. I’m waffle dude by proxy. Don’t go there. Ever.” 

There was a beat before you all let out a violent shudder simultaneously. Derek mumbled about soundproofing everything, Isaac was readying his own waffles, and Peter was being…. Peter. So you took the long way around to your seat, smacking him in the back of the head before continuing on to your chair. 

“Ow! Why?” He cried, annoyed. 

“I dunno. It’s you. Could be anything. Probably just for making our morning the most awkward ever. Then again, like I said, it’s you, could be anything.” 

“Derek!” Peter began, twisting in his seat to face the kitchen. 

The spatula was already waving. “No. I’m not mediating. Again. Work it out. Without violence.” 

“We may as well just forget it, if that’s the conditions,” Peter mumbled, staring into his coffee cup. 

“That is the best thing you have said all morning,” Isaac said, taking the seat next to you, smirking as Peter turned his glare from his coffee cup to him. 

“Okay! So what are everyone’s schedules today?” You asked loudly, changing the subject, and thankfully, the others followed. 


	36. Chapter 36

**"387 bottles of beer on the wall, 387 bottles of beer..." The quiet voice echoed through the halls of the school, reaching Scott's ears and leaving him both worried and interested. He shut his locker before following the voice to an empty classroom where a young girl was sitting cross legged on the floor. He hesitated before gently asking, "Are you okay?" "Was Czechoslovakia okay after Hitler broke his promise? The answer is C, no they were not." "AP Exam?" The girl nodded solemnly.**

Looking up and down the hall once just to make sure this wasn’t a trap - hey, normal doesn’t happen to Scott McCall often - he made his way into the room, setting his bag down before sitting beside her, holding his knees to his chest, looking to the blackboard. 

His eyes grew wide. “Did you write all that?” Scott’s mind went into overdrive as he took in all the formulas and notes scribbled neatly across the board, trying to absorb even a little of it. 

She nodded gently once again. “My dad teaches this class, so, he told me I could use the room. I do my best when I can look at the big picture. Seeing step by step drives me insane and just confuses me.” 

He nodded, smiling a bit. “You prefer things that aren’t ephemeral.” 

“Yes. Step by step makes my attention span ephemeral.” She looked at him with a small smile. “I see you’ve been studying, too.” 


	37. Chapter 37

**Stiles had almost doubled over, cracking up at his own joke-completely at her expense of course. The dork. "I freakin' hate you Stilinski," she complained, (once he'd more or less recovered from his self declared hilarity,) with the shake of her head and the roll of her eyes, though a not-so-well-hidden smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Liar." He stated, grinning complacently and giving her cheek a poke with his pointer finger. "Ugh, get your grimy hand off my face you hobgoblin," she -**

>  ** **-swatted at his hand vaguely, “and who says I’m lying anyway?” She protested, folding her arms. “Uh, that would be me. The ‘grimy hobgoblin’.” He answered with a small laugh, before waving his hand to silence her as she opened her mouth to argue, “Bup bup bup, hold on padawan, we’re gonna hash this thing out! Now, how often do you tell me you hate me?” She complied to his questioning, tilting her eyes upwards and scratching her head in mock thought. “Hmm, I’d say we’re at least down to a daily-****

 **

> **-daily basis at this point? More probably.” She mused. Stiles nodded in concurrence, “Daily. That’s fairly frequent. Yeah? Now, how often do you hang out with me, despite the numerous declarations of hate?” Y/n’s cocky demeanour faltered, and as the boy promptly raised his brows at her, she narrowed her eyes at him, the realisation of where he was going with this suddenly dawning on her. “I’d say we’re at least down to a daily basis at this point…” She grumbled bitterly. “Aha!” He exclaimed,-**

> **-moving so that he was standing directly in front of her. “So why, oh why would you willingly while away the hours…” He trailed of in a slightly sinister manner, craning his neck so that he was looking down at her, with his face in closer proximity to her own. “…with a person you so vehemently despise?” He flashed his signature Stilinski smirk at her, as smug as ever. // Sorry if I’ve repeated a couple of words twice when I’m carrying it on into another message! I hope that this is okay!**

**

“Don’t make me say it,” she huffed. “Don’t make me say that I don’t hate you, but simply strongly dislike you.” 

“Now see? Was that so hard?” He smirked. Then blinked a few times, his face falling emotionless. “Wait, what?” 

She shrugged. “'Hate’ and ‘despise’ go hand in hand, practically. Both are a strong and passionate expression of-” 

“Now see, all I heard there was ‘passionate’ and 'strong’, both of which, I think, lead to a whole other emotion.” He was smirking once again. 

She let out a frustrated sigh through her nose. “If you’re trying to infer that I have fallen for a hobgoblin, you have officially spent too much time in this town. That, or Roscoe is leaking into the cab again. Seriously, double layer the duct tape next time!” 


	38. Chapter 38

**"Seriously, it's no big deal. I've told you. I'm fine." You insisted, your eyes looking anywhere but Scott's as he stood in front of you, having effectively cut off your path, and only viable escape route from this conversation. The Alpha sighed. "You know I can tell when you're lying. Even without the werewolf abilities. So I don't know why you bother with it. You've been avoiding us all lately, barely replying to texts-Can you blame us for worrying?" You studied the pavement at your feet-**

>  ** **-and shook your head lightly, a sinking guilt forming in your stomach and mingling with the nerves that had already settled there as soon as the conversation began. There was a pause, as you pondered your words, before your eyes flickered back up to him. “I’m more hassle than I’m worth Scott. I know it, you know it, the pack knows it. I can’t even manage to deal with my own, pathetic, human problems-let alone the supernatural stuff! We all know I don’t contribute anything of much-****

 **

> **-value there. You shouldn’t have to humour me just because you’re a good person.” You swallowed thickly, looking away as your eyes filled with tears. You grit your teeth, and balled your fists tightly, fingernails digging into the palms of your hands, determined to not let them fall this time if you could help it.-**

> **-“You carry everybody’s problems on your shoulders Scott-the whole town’s practically! You-you just take it all on and get on with it! You’re so strong about all of this, and apparently I can’t even cope with my day to day life that well! It’s not fair that you have to put up with me on top of all the other shit that’s going on…”**

**

“Fair?” Scott almost yelled, but simply because he was growing frantic. “You want to talk about fair? None of this is fair! None of it!” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” She shouted, the tears finally falling. 

“No. Y/N, listen to me.” His voice was low and serious, and he had a finger pointing stiffly to his side as he waved his arm for emphasis. “I’m not talking about the bite. I’m not talking about dealing with the town from hell. I’m not even talking about worrying that if I even try and sleep, my friends will die, or my family, or a new bad guy will do something all because I wanted to sleep.” 

He had calmed down, ceasing his gestures, his face growing soft as his eyebrows knit in concern. “I’m talking about school. About life. About all the crap that we have to deal with just from being human. Emotions, changes, loss, gain, homework….” She laughed despite the tears, and he smiled. “I’m talking about the fact that people like you feel that way. That anyone does. I would drop the world in a minute, if it meant making sure you were okay.” He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m not strong. The only reason I can help others is because I know I have people like the pack, people like you, to help me. I don’t cope. I carry on because I know I still get to see all those faces tomorrow. No, it’s not fair, for anyone. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give everything my full attention. And that includes you and whatever problems you are having. Whatever they are, I don’t care. The human, the mundane, that is what keeps me sane. And yes, I just admitted to homework keeping me sane.” 


	39. Chapter 39

**"This isn't what I signed up for..." Y/n grumbled, leaning her head against the wall behind her wearily. Stiles rolled his eyes, "C'mon y/n, just think of it as more quality time to spend with yours truly!" He grinned cockily and gestured to himself in a semi-dramatic sweeping motion, causing y/n to scoff, "I spend far too much time in your company already." "Hah! There's no such thing as too much time in my company, you should-**

>  ** **-count yourself lucky. Besides, you totally owe me!“ The girl raised an eyebrow in question, trying to recall the recent instance he seemed to refer to. Stiles huffed, his face clouded with disbelief, “Seriously?! Y/n? I took a damn bullet for you!” He exclaimed. She wore a bewildered expression for a moment before realising what incident he was talking about. Y/n couldn’t help but to snicker, shaking her head, “Nerf bullets don’t count Stilinski.” Stiles gaped indignantly, “Uh, yes! They-****

 **

> **-totally do! Especially when we weren’t even on the same team! I saved your sorry ass!” He protested. “You forgot we were on different teams!” She retorted, “And I’m still not totally convinced you didn’t just happen to trip into the path of the bullet and then play it off like it was an intentional act of chivalry.” Y/n smirked.**

**

Stiles looked affronted by the accusation. “You dare to question my motives?” 

She chuckled. “Considering I know you?” She looked up to appear deep in thought, humming, but it only lasted about a second before she looked back to him incredulously. “Yes.” 

“How dare- You are just- Rude!” Stiles stammered, crossing his arms. 

“That, along with the fact that after you fell your shoe was halfway off your foot, which means you either had loose laces, or gave yourself a flat tire, I think my deduction is sound.” 

“I will have you know I was performing a gravity check for all our sakes, and in my final act as watcher of the gravity, I went out with a bang. Thank you very much.” He had leaned into her while saying the last bit, and with the final word, slumped back against the wall with a nod and paused before stating matter of factly, “Now, let’s run before that big scary dude sees us.” 


	40. Chapter 40

**"Of all the freaking days... For the air conditioning to break..." Y/n croaked, from where she was currently lying: sprawled out, face down on the floor. Even with only the minimum amount of loose fitting fabric clothing her, she-much like her fellow lycanthropic companions-was utterly sweltered. A groan of presumable concurrence sounded from a few feet away, where Isaac lay, much in the same predicament. Derek yanked open the door of the fridge, taking a moment to sigh and-**

>  ** **-appreciate the cool air that came with it. He grabbed a few bottles of water and set them down on the nearby counter, shaking his head slightly at the feeble sight of his two betas, before cracking open one for himself and taking a swig. Then, “I’m sweating like Peter in a church!” Y/n suddenly declared in a thoroughly fed up manner. Derek half choked on his water and Isaac gave a grimace at this, muttering a snide, “Gee, thanks for that visual.”-****

 **

> **-It was at this moment that Peter chose to saunter into the living area, a small handheld fan raised to his face. “Clever. However, I’ll have you know,” he began, coming to a stop as he towered over y/n and Isaac; who had both managed to roll onto their backs by this point, “that unlike some people…” His gaze flicked between the pair, pulling a disgusted face, “I don’t sweat. I glow.” Derek rolled his eyes at his ever-pompous uncle before noticing the man’s outfit choice and finding himself-**

> **-unable to contain the smirk that tugged at his lips. “What the hell are those?” He inquired with an amusedly quirked eyebrow. Isaac propped himself up to get a better look, his badly suppressed snicker soon prompting y/n to follow suit. “Oh dear god…” She ran a hand down her face wearily, as an impish grin began its climb, “Now, either this is a heat induced hallucination… Or you actually own what looks to be a pair of hot pants from the 70’s.” Peter folded his arms over his chest,-**

**

> **-“They’re running shorts.” He stated, attempting to be nonchalant, but it was clear to see he was irked. “Yeah, but aren’t they a bit…” Isaac trailed off, taking another moment to incredulously examine the offending article, “… short? And bright? And uh…” He scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks reddened slightly, averting his eyes and giving a nervous chuckle as he fumbled over his words. “Well, y'know-” “-Tight?” Y/n interjected impetuously, and rather louder than intended.**

She didn’t even have to look to know all eyes were on her as she shrugged, letting the motion propel her back to her sprawled position. “What? We were all thinking it. At least the blue matches his eyes.” She snickered. “It’ll really bring out those baby blues.” 

“Well, he did say that he ‘glowed’, so that neon blue ain’t that far of a stretch,” Derek added. 

“Unlike those pants, which have far too much of a stretch,” Isaac mumbled. “Or maybe not enough.” A pause. “I don’t want to look again to have to tell.” 

All but Peter snickered. “Now, let’s see,” Y/N mused, bringing a finger to her chin in mock deep thought, letting her brows furrow a bit, and a smirk grow steadily. “What else can we come up with?” She tapped the finger to her chin repeatedly as she continued, staring at the ceiling, her head cocking from side to side with each new thought. “Hot shorts…. Hot and heavy…. Blue shorts…. Tiny blue shorts…. Bright blue shorts…. Overcompensation in both color and tightness to leave little to the imagination…. Careful, Peter. You might vicariously end up with a case of serious blue ba-” 

She was cut short by Derek choking on his water from the kitchen, which soon faded into a loud laugh. 

“I hate you,” Peter said, glowering at Y/N before holding his fan up once again and walking toward the balcony. 

She shooed him with a dismissive wave of her hand, still staring at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah, Spandex King. Go glow. Or whatever the hell it is you do.” 


	41. Chapter 41

**You were an old hand in the art of 'the silent treatment', having employed it successfully on many occasions in the past. But now that Derek had decided to turn the tables on you, your lack of patience was proving to be a problem. It didn't help that he was so smug about it, getting a clear kick out of this particular power play. Finally it was decided that the most feasible (and possibly fun) solution would be to piss him off until he had no choice but to crack. Sure, when it came to being-**

>  ** **-strong and silent, Derek was a pro; but how long could he really hold out against all your button pushing? You’d always had a talent for being able to wind people up. A fact the alpha was already all too familiar with.****

It was beneath you, you knew, but blasting the surround sound system to whatever Isaac’s iPod was tuned to when you plugged it in was phase one. Derek sat on the couch reading, and you were certain he would at least cast a wayward glance at you, maybe let out a little huff of annoyance, meaning an acknowledgment to your existence. 

But all you got was Peter stomping into the room with his palms held firmly over his ears, eyes blazing, and a snarl growing before he reached out and smashed the iPod right as Isaac walked in with a smile, bopping his head to the beat, shouting, “I love this so-” only to stop abruptly with the music as he saw the electronic crumble in Peter’s hand. You smirked. As predicted, they began to argue. Glancing over at Derek, hoping to see a crack, he only looked up to the two men shouting what was turning into random, meaningless syllables strung together, licked his fingers, and silently turned the page of his book, returning his attention to the text. 

“Okay. I have had it!” You finally screamed, stopping the two arguing werewolves in their tracks as they turned their glances to you, wide eyed. You turned to Derek who was still immersed in his book as you plopped into the seat next to the couch. “This is all Derek’s fault. He is giving me the silent treatment for God knows what point, and that is why I blasted the music. My last ditch effort failed. I get it, Derek, I annoy the hell outta you, and then make it worse when I give you the silent treatment, but oh my God! Come on! I miss-” you stopped, looking to the floor. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this.” You looked back to him, meeting his gaze. “I miss the drama queen moments. I miss you being all broody. I miss you snapping at us. I miss- Oh my God, you’re looking at me. You’re looking at me! Oh my God, it worked! I won! I won!” 

You began to rise to your feet out of excitement until you saw his eyes turn that bright shade of red, slowly returning to a sitting position, eyes wide as Derek said in a slow, low voice. “What did you say?” 

You looked at the floor. “Y/N.” You ignored him. “Y/N.” Turning to Isaac, you muttered apologies for his iPod. “Y/N, I swear to God, don’t start this again!” You smirked. Oh, this was too easy. 


	42. Chapter 42

**"Hey, hold the phone," you held up your hands as an attempt to silence the two werewolves in front of you, who'd spent the better part of the past hour teaming up to piss you off further by poking fun at your already grumpy demeanour, "What exactly is this?" You raised an eyebrow, gesturing between them with your pointer finger. "Since when were you all 'buddy buddy' with Beelzebub over here?" You nodded your head in Peter's direction, though the question itself was directed at Isaac, who-**

>  ** **-responded with a half shrug, “Oh I don’t know…” He supposed, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, “maybe it has something to do with you trying to embarrass me in front of those girls at Sinema.” He shot a scathing glare your way and you rolled your eyes at him with a scoff, “Seriously? You’re still pissed about that? C'mon it was like three days ago, and technically it was your fault because it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t being a total jackass to me in the first place!”****

“How?!” Isaac cried, arms rising at his sides, spread in an exaggerated question before flopping back to his sides and hanging their limply. “How in the hell was I a jackass to you?” 

“You mean aside from the usual?” Peter asked, turning to him, chuckling at the glare he found being shot his way. “What? The two of you are always at each other’s throats! Come on!” 

“All I did was talk to them!” You held up your hands in surrender. “It’s not my fault the topic was your dirty laundry. And the following argument that ensued during which they disappeared was not my doing! You were the one who started it. You just had to get your two cents in.” 

“All of you, lay off,” Derek said exasperatedly from the couch where he was playing pack therapist. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed shut, he began to massage the spot. “You guys are giving me a headache. The girls obviously thought you two were dating, and that is why they left.” When he opened his eyes, the dumbfounded look on yours and Isaac’s faces along with Peter’s smirk made him chuckle. “What? Y/N asked about laundry. That’s coupley stuff. And I’m sure living in the same place was brought up, given the subject. That and the lack of allowing personal space to the other when arguing.” 

You and Isaac shared a look, only your eyes glancing to the other, jaws dropping. It lasted for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, your face screwed up in disgust. “Ew!” 

Isaac’s face matched and he turned to face you. “Ew?” It came out as more of a question, somewhat insulted. 

You nodded vigorously. “Ew!” You shook your head, your whole body shuddering. 

Peter came between you two, wrapping an arm around both of your shoulders, smirking. “Aw, come on now, kids. Work it out. All couples have their dry spells….” 

You and Isaac shared a terrified look before in unison, you pushed Peter off of both of you and he went flying across the room, back slamming into the wall before he slumped down to the floor in a groaning mess, sending the occasional chuckle your way. 

Derek was laughing, still on the couch. You and Isaac both had your arms crossed, glaring at him as he fell sideways onto the cushions, his laugh only growing. Sharing one last look at each other, you both let out a shudder before walking in opposite directions. 


	43. Chapter 43

**"What the hell are you doing here?" The girl asked in an odd whisper-groan, blearily rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, not yet fully awake. "What? Do I need an excuse to drop in on a friend now?" He cocked an eyebrow, finding it difficult to suppress an amused grin as he took in her overly dishevelled appearance. "Uh, when it's 3am on a Wednesday you sure as frick do."**

She grumpily turned the clock so it’s offending time faced away from her. Firmly crossing her arms over her chest, she matched Derek’s expression to a T, the only sign of sleep remaining in the tangled mess of bed head she had already acquired. “Explain.” 

A beat before he said, “Long version or short version?” 

“The truth.” Her words overlapped his as if in anticipation of the response, her already cocked eyebrow raising even higher briefly, as if in a dare. 

He cleared his throat. Why did she make him so damn nervous? “I, uh,” he scratched the back of his head as he thought. 

“Use your words, Derek.” 

His hand fell with a slap to his side as he glowered at her sarcastic tone. “Ha-ha.” 

“I think so,” she shrugged, smiling innocently to herself. “Now, we can’t all be creatures of the night like you-” 

“Y/N- You’re a werewolf, too.” 

She continued on as if this held no relevance. “So make like a creature, and bump in the night, outside of my house, while I stay here, and sleep.” 


	44. Chapter 44

**{Not sure if you're still doing the 5-sentence thing} The music blasted from her phone as Y/N pulled out another batch of cupcakes. It had been three hours since she had last heard from Liam, and she couldn't help but worry. "Woah," a voice - Stiles - said, shocked. "Oh! You're back! Um," she tried to explain. "There are like, 300 cupcakes here!" Stiles exclaimed, before reaching to grab one. "Mm... Chocolate Swirl!"**

She smacked his hand, and he recoiled with an odd squawking sound, looking at her with knit eyebrows as he held his hand, eyes wide as he took in her matching knit eyebrows directed at him, making him raise one of his so he at least was slightly varied from her. 

After a delayed pause, the awkward moment of staring continuing much longer than it should, Stiles said indignantly, yet somewhat fearful, “And why not?” 

“Do I have to have more of a reason?” 

“You stress bake. I get it.” His voice was somewhat compassionate, but he was trying to get somewhere else. “I’m just trying to help you,” one hand made a swooping gesture to her, while his hand other hand did the same to the cupcake, “by taking a few of these little doughy mountains of stress off your hands.” His hand slowly descended like a claw in one of those stuffed animal machines to extract the cupcake. “This lovely, chocolatey, minty, gooey goodness-Ah-I mean stress.” 

She smacked his hand away again. “Ah, fine!” He turned to walk away, throwing his arms up and letting them slap back down exasperatedly, quickly turning around, grabbing the cupcake, remarking about the hot pan, his face screwing up in pain and determination, extracting the cupcake and holding it up to her briefly with a cry of triumph, before turning back around, only to trip on her outstretched foot, sending the cupcake flying backwards and into her outstretched hand. She took a bite, nodding her head, arching her eyebrows, and humming in satisfaction at the taste, as Stiles moaned on the floor, slowly slinking his way back up. 


	45. Chapter 45

**Y/n watched on as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair before looking over at her again pointedly. "Can't you ever just do what your told? With no arguments or backchat?" "Not if what I'm being told to do is moronic!" She disputed testily. He gave a harsh scoff. "I'm asking you to stay in the car, stay out of trouble, and quit being such a pain in my ass, I don't see what your damn problem is." He bit back, beyond frustrated now, his jaw tight as one hand gripped the steering wheel of the-**

>  ** **-parked car. “My problem is you deciding I can’t help!” She snapped, which made him exhale through his nose forcefully. He opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again, pressing his lips together in a thin line. With great restraint, he held his tongue, stopping the flow of sharp words that would have surely followed and letting her continue. “What’s the point in me even being here at all then? If all I’m ‘permitted’ to do is chill out in the passenger seat? Also, I’m so sick of all-****

 **

> **-this ‘stay in the car to be safe’ bullshit!” She ranted, the fact that she still remained uninterrupted causing her jabbering to run off topic, “You’re telling me that if they wanted to, some jacked up, pissed off alpha wolf or baseball bat wielding maniac couldn’t tear me to pieces because I’m locked inside a flimsy metal junk box on wheels? Yeah, I’ll be totally secure inside this impenetrable, indestructible steel death trap!” She rambled on sarcastically. He could feel his-**

> **-patience beginning to wear thin again, and she was showing no signs of stopping any time soon.**

**

“Not to mention the entire engine is held together by duct tape! If something wants to, it could tear this car to shreds! It’s be like ripping off a really massive bandaid!” 

Stiles drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, his head tilting to the side, falling almost, slightly bobbing when it reached it’s limit of extension. 

Silence. 

He tilted his eyes up her way, raising his eyebrows. When she didn’t keep talking, he popped his lips that had been drawn in a tight line open with a loud, dramatic sound. 

He suddenly wore a massive grin. “You just jumped from a freaking lip popping sound. Of course you’re safer in the car for now. Nothing can hurt you in the-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Glowing red eyes appeared outside the front of the Jeep, and he fumbled the bat in his lap, making it hit the horn a few times accidentally, making both of them scream louder, the lights and windshield wipers got bumped, along with the radio, and at some point his seat belt, Scott just watching from the front of the car with his head tilted, laughing. 


	46. Chapter 46

**Y/N's thoughts drifted off as Scott spoke to her, she knew he was an alpha but he wasn't aware. At least, that's what she thought until she was brought out of her thoughts by Scott's stern voice, "I know you know what I am," he said bluntly. And with that, Y/N jumped up off of his bed and tried to keep her distance from him. "Not so fast," Scott said as he closed his bedroom door, and then closed the distance in between the two of them, "I think we need to talk."**

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, her voice wavering just enough to make herself grimace. 

“Oh, cut the crap, Y/N! My first girlfriend was a hunter! I was bitten by a psychotic werewolf her aunt thought she had killed in a fire when she went against the code and killed an entire family, then he killed her, and….” He trailed off, looking beside her head as if searching for a way back to his train of thought. Meeting her eyes again with his own, he narrowed them at her. “Look! The point is, I get complicated. I get screwed up. I get that I will never get a normal life. What I don’t get is you trying to hide the fact that you are an Omega from me. The fact that you are a werewolf, period. You had to know I would find out.” 

“Yeah, I knew you would, but still! Like you said! Never having a normal life! Can you blame a girl for trying?” She sat back down on the bed. “For once, I wasn’t the outcast, the outsider, the one everyone ignored. Someone paid attention to me. And not just anyone.” She looked up to him. “An Alpha.” 

“True Alpha,” he said teasingly, sitting beside her. 

She smiled gently, lightly pushing his shoulder. “Yeah. For someone complaining about not having a normal life, you sure do brag about the abnormalities a lot. Just sayin’.” 


	47. Chapter 47

**You couldn't help but to jump and muffle a small, subdued whimper into the pillow you were clutching tightly to yourself, as the screams from the movie blared through the speakers. An ever-snarky scoff sounded from the other side of the couch. "Oh come on! Don't tell me you're actually freaked out by this shit?" You glanced at Isaac, his gratingly mocking expression causing you to turn your eyes back toward the screen promptly. "I don't know what you're talking about." You replied in a cool-**

> **-manner, pulling your best attempt at nonchalance, despite involuntarily flinching at the scene that was playing out. Peter gestured emphatically at you from the armchair he was sprawled out upon, “That’s what he’s talking about. The whole ‘jumping out of your skin while your heart goes wacko’ thing you’re pretending you’ve not got going on.” She rested her chin on top of the pillow and looked toward him pointedly, secretly welcoming the chance to avert her vision from the intense suspense of-**

> **-the movie. “The lights are off Peter, it’s dark and you’re getting old. You’re clearly seeing things and need your ears cleaned out.” She ignored his offended protests and continued, “Besides even if I was scared, which I’m not, it’s a horror film! So it’d be a perfectly natural reaction!” Derek chuckled and shook his head, “A perfectly natural reaction if you weren’t a werewolf watching a shitty horror movie about werewolves…” You narrowed your eyes at him as the others snickered. “Oh shut-**

> **-up.” You huffed indignantly, “And it doesn’t even matter anyway because, like I said, I’m perfectly, 100% cool with the movie.” As if to prove your point you exhaled and once again focused your attention on the screen, rather than the three banes of your existence, burying the lower half of your face in the cushion so that your eyes peeked out from over the top. The three men exchanged varying looks of amusement at your claim, a sly smirk settling on Isaac’s features as his eyes flitted over-**

> **-to you again. “So, to clarify, you’re not in any way terror-stricken?” He cocked his head to the side as you mumbled a rather unconvincing, “’m not scared.” He nodded. “Sure, sure. So.. You’re not going to want to scramble over here the second the hide and seek hunting part starts?” He raised his arm and held it out to make a space for you. You gulped, “There’s a hide and seek hunting part?” Then quickly shook your head, mumbling another, half hearted, “’m not scared Isaac. ’m not.”**

“Okay,” he sighed, dragging the word out with a smirk. Lowering his arm onto the back of the couch, you kept a wary eye on it as you saw him glance at the two other werejerks as if having a silent conversation.

You felt his hand get closer to you as the music crescendoed in suspense as the stupid maze portion Isaac had mentioned ensued on the screen. Derek rolled his eyes and mumbled something about popcorn as he rose from his chair, and Peter stretched with an exaggerated yawn. You knew they were all going to try and startle you at once, it was just a matter of time. Using the pillow to hide your grin, you fought shaking your head at their mistake. You lived with the idiots. Reading their dastardly and evil intentions had become second nature.

The music swelled to an all time high, and you kept your eyes trained on the TV, feeling Derek silently appear behind your seat on the couch, and Peter and Isaac inching closer to you. Right when they were about to pounce, you ducked down, causing them all to crash into one another as they leapt toward where you were, small little war cries and Isaac’s imaginative 'Boo!’ turning into groans as they collided.

Slipping up from the couch, you laughed, grabbing the remote. “You all are as predicable as a horror movie.” Selecting the new movie, you walked back to your seat on the couch, prying them apart from one another, practically flinging them back to their seats. “Now. As payback, we will watch a horror movie of my choosing.”

“So then why is a chick flick playing?” Isaac asked, and you just grinned manically, enjoying their wide eyes and groans as Derek brought his knees up to his chest and curled into a ball in his seat, peering at the screen over his knees. Isaac grabbed the other throw pillow and mimicked the defensive position you had earlier. Peter, on the other hand scoffed as the opening credits rolled, but tucked himself up into a blanket as nonchalantly as possible, pulling it high enough to cover up to his nose, muffling the soft gasps, mumbling and sniffling that followed for the remainder of the movie.


	48. Chapter 48

**"Flip's sake, will you stop moving your leg so fricking much?" Y/n complained, grimacing as she perched on the edge of the coffee table across from where he was sprawled on the sofa with his right leg stuck in the air. In one hand she brandished a pair of tweezers, in the other hand she held his bare foot. "It's not like this is a comfortable position to maintain." He replied drily. Y/n flashed him a death look. "You're not the one with a stinking gross foot in your face, so you can shut up."-**

>  ** **-He waited a moment, then felt the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he shot his leg forward, his foot now in dangerous proximity to her profile. She dropped the tweezers as she recoiled, gagging. Y/n swatted at him whilst he cackled. “You’re not funny.” She glowered, speaking after his laughter began to die down. “Humour is subjective. Personally I think I’m pretty hilarious. Which by definition, makes me pretty hilarious.” The overt smugness in his tone only served to irk her further.-****

 **

> **-She rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose, picking up the fallen tweezers and then begrudgingly accepting the foot he once again held out toward her. Angling his foot so that it was tilted towed the light source in the room, she scanned it for the small shard of embedded glass that was causing all the trouble. “You could try being a little more grateful you know. Just a thought.” She snarked. “I’m plenty grateful!” He protested, “Especially seeing as we wouldn’t be in this-**

> **-position if it weren’t for your clumsiness and crap vacuuming skills…” He added, muttering under his breath. Judging by the mischievous glint in his eye, however, he was well aware that she’d catch it. She gaped for a split second before glaring at him indignantly. “I told you to at least put some socks on before traipsing around where the glass had shattered, just in case I’d missed a bit, but no!-” A shit-eating grin climbed up his face as she continued her rant against him,-**

> **-finding the self-orchestrated rampage to be highly entertaining. “-You didn’t! So this is your own fault and honestly, I’m kind of a massive saint for caring enough about you to…” She drifted off, finally taking stock of his expression and shaking her head. “You’re a real ass, you know that?” He chuckled and then shot her a lop sided smirk. “I’ve been told once or twice. By a ‘kind of massive saint’ or two.”**

**

“Well then, if you have a saint or _two_ , then how in the holy hell did I end up doing this, and not one of them?” 

Isaac smiled like a child. “You’re just lucky, I guess.” The leer he sent over her shoulder made her turn around, nearly screeching when she found Peter’s face only inches from hers. “Why are you staring at my foot, you creeper!” Isaac said in a complete one-eighty of his previous mood. 

“I’m making sure that’s the only piece, you pipsqueak, now shut up and stop looking at me like that.” 

“Ow! God dammit! What the fu- OW! OW!” Derek’s voice cried out from the other room, foul language she had never had the pleasure of hearing until that moment reaching her ears, and she cringed, peeking an eye open at Isaac, seeing his smug grin. 

“You forgot to vacuum the rest, didn’t you?” 


	49. Chapter 49

**You exhaled heavily, running a hand through your hair. "Maybe this was a mistake." You muttered, after a moment of silence. This elicited a derisive scoff from the man. "Ya think?" He replied, cocking an eyebrow and pushing himself off of the brick wall he'd been leaning against. You narrowed your eyes at him and did your best to hold back an irritated huff. "There's no need to be such a dick about it, Derek." You stated scathingly.**

That scoff once again bouncing off the walls of the alleyway set you off. “Why the hell are you following me anyway?” 

His grin was smug. “You had a really bad idea, I knew it wouldn’t work out well, and I have a brooding, aloof facade to maintain, so I thought I could get out and enjoy a show all from the safety of my shadows.” 

“Wow. You really are an asshole. I mean, I knew it before, but this just proves it. And here I was, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you had been here to watch my back. Oh, but that’s right, I forgot, Derek Hale likes to make an entrance.” 

“Scared him off, didn’t I?” 

You sneered at him. “That’s not the point. The point is no more blind dates. I don’t need to have you pulling a stunt like that again to prove to me that I am not meant to be dating right now.” 

“I never said anything about you not dating right now,” he slowly shook his head, grinning as he walked up to you. “I just told you he wasn’t right for you.” 

“Oh, and you got that knowledge how?” 

Derek stopped in front of you, his hands in his jacket pockets, nose scrunching up in distaste. “He smelled funny.” 

You opened your mouth to make a witty retort, but the sudden kiss made you stop, going tense and trying to remember what breathing was. Any hope of that was dashed when he muttered against your lips, “Just stop talking and kiss me already.” 


	50. Chapter 50

**"Y/n, are you sure you've thought this whole thing through?" Stiles asked, sounding wholly dubious as he stood beside Isaac; both watching over your shoulder as you poured Derek's favourite cereal into a disposable plastic bag and replaced the empty space in the box with the dry dog food you'd brought along in your backpack. You rolled your eyes, "Chill out. He's had it coming for a long time. And after that little stunt he pulled with me last night, he deserves all this AND much worse." Isaac-**

> **-scratched the back of his neck tiredly. His hair was messy, sticking up in random tufts and he was still clad in his sleepwear. He hadn’t been awake long. “Whatever you say. But I heard him stomping around earlier before he went off to work out, so if he’s in a bad mood already…” Isaac trailed off, cracking a sadistic grin, “Let’s just say it’s gonna be a hell of a lot of fun watching you guys face the wrath of Derek this early on a Saturday morning.” You merely grunted your acknowledgement,**

> **-giving the beta a half hearted elbow to the ribs. You were currently preoccupied with tying up the cereal-filled plastic bag and sliding it into your backpack. After all, time was of the essence. Stiles meanwhile, was appalled by Isaac’s choice of words. “Wow, wow wow, hold up there buddy!” He held up a halting finger at Isaac, “‘You guys?’ Plural? I’m just the ride guy! I was blackmailed into this! I should be in bed right now! I’m practically innocent!” He spluttered, then winced as his-**

> **-hand was slapped away by Isaac, who proceeded to raise an eyebrow at Stiles. “You really think Derek’s gonna see things that way at 9am on a Saturday morning after being deprived of his breakfast? You’re a vital accessory to the crime.” “Hey! You opened the door for her! You’re just as much of an enabler as I am! And, you live under his roof, so technically you can’t escape him.” Stiles argued. This stopped Isaac short, the other boys words registering in his brain just as he was about to-**

> **-make a retort. He clamped his mouth shut and sighed through his nose. “Shit.” He muttered, after a beat. You replaced the box before closing the cupboard door behind it, turning to face them both with a self satisfied grin. “Now for the finishing touch…” You rummaged your hand around in your backpack for a few moments, before proudly pulling out a dog bowl. Along the side the word ‘Sourwolf’ was scrawled haphazardly in black sharpie. With a flourish, you placed it in amongst the other bowls-**

> **-in the designated cupboard. Upon turning to face your friends again, you were met with two disbelieving looks. Stiles scrubbed a hand down his face, and then blinked his eyes back into focus. “You’re going to get us horrifically, violently murdered y/n.” He groaned. “Pfffft.” You-**

> **-dismissed the concern with the flap of your hand. “Relax you guys. Isaac, you can blame us, or feign innocence, whatever. And Stiles, trust me dude, we’ll be long gone by the time Derek comes b-” You were cut off by the abrupt slam of the front door, causing you to both jump and wince simultaneously.**

Isaac simply wore a smirk, tapping his ear leisurely. “Oh, did I forget to mention I heard Derek coming?”

“You little piece of….” Stiles mumbled, stopping when he realized Derek would hear the foul words to come next, no matter how softly they were spoken.

“Derek! Wow! Still no shirt….” You plastered on a smile. “Even after coming back from….. Wherever you go. Seriously, is it that much of an effort?” Derek was about to open his mouth to say something when you continued. “Ah, well. Anyway! We,” you gestured to Stiles and then yourself, “just stopped by to give Isaac some notes from chemistry, and I went to eat some cereal, and, as luck would have it…. Your cereal was infested with weevils.”

Derek just stared at you before swearing and swinging his arms briefly. “I knew Peter was up to no good! Volunteering to get groceries…. Pffft! This is why we need people like you around here!” He gestured to you.

“Ah, if it helps any, don’t check the cupboard for your bowl, either. That was also all Peter, I swear I had nothing to do with it, honest to God truth. Nothing. Not. A. Thing.” Stiles gulped.

_And yes, this is pre-roommates roommates._


	51. Chapter 51

**"What the hell y/n?!" Derek's voice boomed across the loft. You felt yourself cringe slightly as it reverberated. Chancing a direct glance at your Alpha, his glowing, red eyes met directly with your own. "Okay... So I know this looks kind of bad-" "-Well that's the understatement of the year." Peter interrupted, earning him a shared glare from both you and Derek, and a sharp nudge to the side from Isaac, though Derek himself tended to agree with this particular sentiment. The**

> **Alpha turned his attention back to you, his jaw set firmly. “Explain. Spit it out. Now.” He growled darkly. You fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt. “Does it rectify the situation at all if I tell you he was already unconscious when I brought him up here..?”**

“It’s on my couch!” He boomed. “What do you think?”

“Ah, technically it’s the ‘community couch’, according to Peter, and he is the elder here, so, ah-” You stopped at Derek’s red eyes glowing once again. “And you’re the Alpha, right, overrides elder….”

“Dumb rule, if you ask me,” Peter scoffed.

“We didn’t,” the three of you monotoned, not even sparing him a second glance.

“Get that mutt off my couch, or so help me-” Derek had been pointing at the stray only to have it startle awake at his voice, looking up disoriented, meeting it’s eyes with his flaming red that quickly faded to human, and his voice along with it, taking notes of a caring tone. “Why is it trembling? Is it hurt? What the hell is wrong with it Y/N? Why didn’t you take it to Deaton? Is it in pain?”

He rushed over to the dog, letting it sniff his hand, and petting it once it allowed, taking some of it’s pain.

You sniffled, and they all turned to you. “What? Maybe it is going through the same thing I am! An angry Alpha is yelling at me, glowing red eyes at me, from the moment he sees me and is telling me it’s my fault!”

Derek’s eyes faded back to human once again, his face softening. “I’m sorry. I just…. Real dogs and I…. We don’t…. Werewolves and….” He stood and slowly approached you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Look, let’s just go to Deaton and work from there.”

You nuzzled his hand like the dog had, and he laughed softly. “His name is-”

“No naming it!” The hand on your shoulder was now waving a finger in your face. “Once you name it, you get attached to it.”

“Yeah, like ‘Ficus the Fern Tree’,” Isaac muttered, making you smile.

“That was one time,” Peter muttered through gritted teeth, holding up a finger for emphasis.

You snickered. “Yeah. So was ‘Spandex King’. One time is all it takes. But somehow, despite all the blue stretch, you still grew on me, Peter. A very, very, very, small piece of my heart, but nonetheless.”


	52. Chapter 52

**"Well you look... Interesting today..." Y/n gave a groan at the sudden sarcastic voice that had seamlessly cut through the quiet and she slowly blinked her eyes open, only to glower at Stiles, who was making a path through the clutter of her room to stand over her. "Oh piss off Stilinski. I'm ill." She grumbled, turning away from him and yanking her blankets over her head. Stiles folded his arms, "And that totally isn't at all your fault, right?" He asked, amusement burning behind his eyes as a**

> **-sly grin tugged at his lips. Not that she could see this of course. But she could hear the ridicule that practically exuded from his every word. He was revelling in this particular misfortune. (Not because he enjoyed seeing her suffer or anything darkly sadistic like that, I mean, come on, he’s no Peter Hale…) It was more down to the fact that he had been right. There was no way she could deny that now. Another, more muffled groan sounded from the mound of blankets on the bed, which Stiles**

> **-took as some kind of dismissive attempt at avoiding the conversation. “Hmm…” He pretended to ponder, tapping his chin, “I seem recall a certain conversation last night at around, say… your third drink in, maybe? I distinctly remember saying something along the lines of ‘wow, you might wanna slow down a bit y/n, or you’ll regret it in the morning.’ To which you replied, ‘just because you’re a lightweight doesn’t mean we all are Stilinski’ and started dancing… If you could even call it**

> **-that, I mean it was really just a lot of spinning and arm flapping. And that one weird pigeon head bop thing you do.” He tried to imitate her actions from the night prior with his own head, but his attention quickly turned back to the bed as the heap of blankets and bitterness stirred. An arm emerged from under the bedding, attached to a hand that was making an obscene one fingered gesture in his general direction. “Charming.” He responded drily, “Real mature y/n. Nice.” He started to sigh**

> **but couldn’t help but to break into a breathy chuckle as she began waving her arm around emphatically. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it.” Stiles moved closer to her and swatted at her arm until she let it drop theatrically and hang limp. A few moments later y/n felt a dip as the boy sat himself down on the edge of the bed. “Seeing as it didn’t exactly take a psychic to work out what the outcome of last night would be, I came prepared.” This sparked her interest a little, despite the general-**

> **-groggy ache of her hangover. “I brought a care package. Of sorts. Nothing fancy,” he shrugged. The sheets beside him rustled slightly. “Just aspirin, DVD’s…” He listed casually, before his eyes narrowed a fraction and his tone shifted, “… Our partner project homework for Harris that’s due tomorrow.” He added, with pointed emphasis. “Stiles…” Y/n whined petulantly, kicking her blanket-laden feet up in protest and letting them fall back onto the bed with a dull thud, making the whole**

> **-mattress minimally bounce for a few moments. “Y/n…” Stiles imitated, slightly tilting his head to the side, in her direction. She huffed, “I’m practically dying here and you’re preoccupied with a stupid homework assignment!” “A stupid homework assignment that you’ve been putting off repeatedly in the hopes that I’ll either give up and do it all for you, or that it’ll just magically go away.” He corrected, “Neither of which is gonna happen, my stroppy, hungover little friend.” Upon realising**

> **-that Stiles would remain relentless, even during her sickly, post-inebriated state, Y/n let out an almightily over dramatic sigh of exasperation. “Live a little Stilinski! Stick it to the man!” “Quoting ‘School of Rock’ isn’t going to sway me. Harris hates us enough as it is.” “Screw Harris!” Y/n exclaimed hoarsely. “I’d rather not.” Stiles replied impishly, with a wry smirk.**

Folding the blankets down and away from her face in one swooping gesture, she turned to face Stiles. “How about,” she took the package away from him. “I handle this half of the work,” she separated everything that didn’t involve the homework closest to her. “And you do that part?”

“Y/N….” Stiles chuckled.

“Well, you’re right that I have been putting off repeatedly in the hopes that you’ll either give up and do it all for me- us!” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at her correction. “Or that it’ll just magically go away.” She stared straight forward, then down at the package in her hands, before looking back up to Stiles. “Scott’s a werewolf. That’s magical. Can’t he-”

She was cut off by Stiles’ abrupt laughter. He laughed so hard, he fell off the bed.

Peeking her head over, she stared at him on the floor, groaning and holding the back of his head. “Whoops. Looks like we’re both ill, now. Which DVD is first?”


	53. Chapter 53

**"Y/n-" "-I said 'I'm fine'!" She snapped, mentally cursing her voice for betraying her by cracking, despite her best attempts at keeping it steady. She heard a scoff from the other side of the door. "Well I can hear you crying so that's obviously not true." Isaac retorted. Getting no response from her, he sighed, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest against the closed door of her room. He paused for a few moments, and gathered his thoughts, before straightening up again. "Please,-**

> **-Y/n,“ he implored, his tone having softened since the last time he spoke, “just open the door, yeah? It’s only me. I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you.” Y/n pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she tried to quiet and even out her breathing, but to no avail. The tears wouldn’t stop falling from her eyes and she was doing her best to bite back her sobs. Though Isaac couldn’t see the state she was in, he had a fairly clear-**

> **-idea, given his werewolf abilities and the fact that he knew her. Probably better than he knew himself most days, he reckoned. He angled his ear toward her room, and carefully listened as he heard footsteps lightly padding toward him, before coming to a stop. She was standing directly in front of him on the other side of the divide, debating with herself over whether she should unlock the door or not. “Please. Let me in.” He coaxed gently.**

“I…. I can’t. That’s the problem, Isaac,” she said through the door. Her voice was a whisper, broken and cracked, but he heard it all, just the same.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled softly. “It’s as easy as turning a handle.” He placed his palm silently against the door, close to his face and stared at it as it strained, refraining from just breaking it down and off the hinges. It would be so easy. But the damage of invaded privacy, that was harder to fix. That and she was on the other side of the door now, so she would probably have a broken nose.

“I’m not talking about the door or into my room, you dolt.” Her laugh was faint and wet from crying. “It’s called a metaphor. Learn how to use one.” After a moment, “Makes Derek so much easier to understand, now that I think about it.”

“Learn to speak in metaphors, huh? Be a smart ass like you?” He was grinning, his forehead resting fully on the door once again, his palm flattening, the tension easing. “Only if you teach me.”

The vibrations of her voice against the wood indicated she was mirroring him exactly on the other side. “That’s just the thing, Isaac. I can’t. Smartassery and metaphors, yes, but we’re talking anchors here. This is something I need to do on my own.” Her voice had grown extremely quiet. “You can’t help me with this.”

“I can if you’ll let me.” It took all he had to keep the emotion out of his voice. “I’ve already been there, done that, dealt with the shit, and moved on. If you know what it is, I can help you focus on it. So please, just, for the love of God-” he let out a cry in frustration, his voice having risen unintentionally. “Let me in!” His hand had turned into a fist at some point and he pounded on the door once. He heard crying once again, but from the same position behind the door, meaning she hadn’t even flinched. He smelt and sensed mixed emotions now instead of just one. Pain, sadness, fear, confusion, and oddly, hope, love, with a little bit of anxiety.

“Isaac, every night I tell you there’s nothing to worry about, and you believe me. You cry and you cry some nights, and I just hold you till it’s over. It’s all you’ve ever asked me to do. ‘Just wait until it’s over’.” She took a deep breath. The door cracked open just enough to see her face. “One day this will all make sense. I promise. But for now, please…. Just wait ‘till it’s over.”

She tried to close the door but Isaac’s foot stopped it from shutting all the way. He pushed it open slightly with his palm flat against the door. “Fine. I’ll wait. But if this isn’t about coming in your room, or opening the door, then let’s forget about the rest. You’re already one step closer - the door is open.” She muttered a swear under her breath and he chuckled. “So just let me hold you ‘till it’s over.”

Smiling a tight smile, new tears threatening to spill, she stepped back, let the door swing slowly open, and sat back down on the edge of the bed until she heard the faint click of the door closing, and she looked up to see Isaac coming to sit beside her, holding her tight instantly, and falling back on the bed, curled into a ball as she sobbed once again, this time on his shoulder, into his chest, whatever space she could find, and he didn’t say a thing, except 'shhhh'ing her quietly as he comfortingly stroked her hair, and whispered only once against her forehead. “Until it’s over.”


	54. Chapter 54

**"Can I have a little help please?" You called, three heads turning to look at you as you blindly stumbled into the room, having become outrageously entangled in your fresh bed sheets. "How in the..?" Peter mumbled incredulously, before huffing a small laugh and shaking his head. "Never mind, it's you. I don't even know how I still get surprised at stuff like this. But making your own bed? I thought that'd be a fairly straightforward task. Even for you, y/n." You let out an impatient huff, the-**

> **-section of the sheet in front of your face billowing out briefly with air, which set Isaac off cackling. “Can we all just skip the mockery bit and get to the untangling me part?” You whined, petulantly stomping your feet a few times. Peter merely flashed a devilish grin at your request. “But y/n,” he replied slyly, “how can you expect us to just give up such a golden opportunity so quickly?” “Erm… Because despite highly questionable appearances, deep down you’re actually decent guys who love**

> **-me far too much to leave me imprisoned inside this mass of bedclothes?” You tried. You heard Peter cluck his tongue and then inhale through his teeth, making a hissing noise. “Yup, I’m afraid that’s just not going to be good enough.” He stated, not even trying to hide his glee at his power over your predicament. You groaned dramatically, rolling your head back, as various snickers and chuckles sounded at your expense.**

“How did I get stuck with a pack as utterly useless as the three of you?”

“The better question would be,” you lifted your head back up, using your exposed eye to glower at Derek while he spoke. “How in the world did this,” he gestured from your head to your toes and back again with one hand in a swooping gesture from his seat on the couch, “even happen?”

“The bed is big. I am small. The sheets like to curl back if they aren’t already tucked under the corner.” You shrugged in a delayed, ‘duh’ way.

The three of them imitated it to a T, mockingly, with incredulous looks on their faces. “The bed is big. You are small,” Derek countered. “You are also a werewolf with super speed and strength.”

You were grateful your face was mostly covered to hide your blush. You flapped your arms as best you could in an attempt to loosen the fabric, careful not to tear it with your claws. “Will someone just get this damn thing off of me?”


	55. Chapter 55

**You glanced around the room absently, the sheer lack of things to do was starting to become utterly mind numbing. And it had only been an hour or so since you'd been confined here. Apparently you were 'a liability' or some shit like that. They didn't trust you enough to leave you unsupervised. They didn't trust you, period. So, they were taking shifts. And it seemed like leader of their pack had decided to bite the bullet and take first watch. He hadn't said much since the rest of the pack had-**

> **-dispersed, following your initial obtainment. He’d spent the majority of his time so far on his phone, though he cast a stern-looking glance in your direction every so often. You sighed deeply. “I’m bored.” Scott stopped scrolling and looked up, “Find something to watch on TV.” He replied, nodding his head toward the screen. You rolled your eyes, you’d tried that already. “There’s nothing decent on. It’s all crap.” He tiredly ran a hand through his hair, “Well, what would you rather do then?”-**

> **-“Leave.” You stated simply, throwing him a sarcastic smile. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “You know that’s not an option here, y/n.” “And you know that this is illegal, right? Kidnap?” He shrugged. “Sure, but if it stops something worse from happening then we’re just gonna have to overlook that for now.” You gave a snort of derisive laughter. “Worse?! What exactly is it you think I’m capable of?” You asked incredulously, “I’m normal. Average. Or at least, I was until a bunch of my abnormal-**

> **-non-average peers decided to hold me captive.” You snidely added. Scott folded his arms, and casually leant back in his seat. “So we’re just supposed to believe that a bunch of seriously bad stuff starting to happen, right when you move into town, is a complete and total coincidence?” He questioned, with an overly sardonic tone to his voice. “Yes!” You exclaimed abruptly, throwing your arms widely for emphasis. The Alpha scoffed in seeming disbelief, shaking his head slightly, before-**

**  
**

> **-positioning himself so that he was sitting on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, with his body angled toward you. “And those friends of yours, huh? The werewolf hunters?” “Like I said,” you emphasised the three words slowly, sick of repeating yourself, “I didn’t know that’s what they did until you told me. Keeping bad company’s not a crime.” You argued. “And I didn’t know werewolves existed until your little buddies showed up, fangs and all- Which, speaking of bad company-” “-I get it.-**

> **-You don’t like me or my pack all that much.” Scott interrupted. “Yeah, no kidding,” you shot back bitterly, slumping back into your seat and folding your arms. He exhaled through his nostrils, and let a moment pass before breaking the short lived quiet. “Look y/n, if I were you I wouldn’t exactly be all that fond of us either. And if it turns out you’re telling the truth-” “I am!” You interjected. Scott shot you a weary look, “Let’s just agree to disagree on that one for now.” You let out a-**

> **-petulant huff and averted your eyes from him in a small gesture of defiance. A few minutes of silence and wall-gazing passed before you glanced at him again. He was absentmindedly flicking through the TV channels, and he looked like he felt kind of bad. ‘Good.’ You thought to yourself. Catching your stare, he gave you an odd, half smile of acknowledgement, set the remote aside and stood up. “I’m gonna grab a drink from the fridge, do you, uh, want anything?” He offered, scratching the back of-**

> **-his neck somewhat awkwardly. “Sure.” You mumbled, shrugging one of your shoulders, like it was no big deal. “Coke alright?” “Yeah.” You nodded, watching his back leave the room as he retreated to the nearby kitchen. Now was your chance. The first time you’d been left alone since you’d been taken captive. You had to time this carefully. You held your breath in anticipation and edged forward in your seat, counting backwards from five in your head. When you reached one, you scrambled from your-**

**  
**

> **-seat and bolted for the front door. Not daring to waste any time looking over your shoulder, you fumbled with the lock, and swung the door open in record time. You heard McCall yelling out your name along with a few choice expletives behind you, but you didn’t allow yourself any time to focus on him. Every second was valuable as you raced through the doorway of the threshold. This was it. You were on the home stretch. Or so you thought, until a tall, dark figure suddenly stepped out from the-**

> **-shadows and into the dim glow of the porch light. The man was in too close of a proximity for you to avoid, especially when you were legging it as fast as you possibly could. SMACK. You collided face-first with his chest, letting out an unattractive ‘oof’ noise upon impact, as he grunted for a split second, then immediately tensed his muscles and emitted a low, snarling growl. Stumbling backward, you almost tripped over your own feet, until a grip on your upper arm steadied you. The stranger-**

> **-glared down at you briefly, your eyes locking for a split second before you quickly shook him off, side stepping him and attempting to continue with your escape. The man was quicker than you however, and you found yourself sharply yanked rearwards by the back of your t-shirt. “Oh no you don’t, you little runt.” He spoke, with a distinctly menacing undertone to his voice, swinging you around so that you were in front of him, facing the door you’d just bolted through. He planted his hands on-**

> **-your hunched shoulders, forcefully holding you in place. Scott was standing in the doorway, looking notably disgruntled. He was clutching an opened can of coke in one hand, which, in his haste to catch up to you, had spilt over him, and the can itself was dented in his grip. “Derek? What’re you doing here?” He asked the unexpected visitor, who you now had a name for. “Thought I might stop by and check on how well you were handling things.” Derek-**

**  
**

> **-explained, “I see I made the right choice. What the hell did you leave her alone for?” “I was getting her a drink! Being hospitable! There wasn’t exactly a library book I could check out on kidnapper’s etiquette, or a step by step kidnapping guide!” Scott defended. “The 'not letting the captive get away’ rule is fairly obvious McCall.”**

Both of their heads snapped to you, surprised by the remark. You shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

You looked up at the man behind you, and saw his eyes flash bright blue for just a second, before looking back to Scott, removing one hand and pointing a finger at you. “She’s right, Scott.” He looked back to you. “Are you sure she isn’t something? I swear to God she bruised my sternum.”

“I’m nothing!” You cried, looking Derek in the eye. “And don’t call me runt.” You put your hands firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry I bruised your ego-” “-Sternum.” “But really, I didn’t even know this shit existed, and I have homework to do. Yes, before you say it once again, McCall, I know. My life is on the line. Other’s lives are on the line. But my chemistry grade is also on the line. Can’t someone just watch me at my own damn house?!”

“Well, since Scott showed exemplary efforts with keeping you under control just moments ago,” Derek looked at a simmering Scott pointedly, smirking. “I’ll drive you home and keep you company. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful. Oh, and McCall?” You turned back to him. “I’ll keep my ears open from now on. Let you know if I hear anything that could be something. You may have kidnapped me, but, your- pack,” you said haltingly, still not used to the word, “has been the best part about moving here, despite tonight’s hiccup. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”


	56. Chapter 56

**"Okay, so here's the plan." Y/n said, yanking a battered-looking sheet of paper out of her bag and laying it out in front of them. Stiles placed his hands on the table and leant forward, furrowing his eyebrows as he studied her scrawls, his nose crinkling with skepticism. "What the hell is that supposed to be?" He scrutinised, pointing at one of the multitude of odd, ambiguous-looking doodles on the page. "Scott." She replied, looking at him as though it should be obvious.**

“Ah,” he said as if he understood. “So then this is me.” He pointed to another stick figure.

“No, that’s Liam,” she huffed. “Look, I’m not an artist, okay? This is just a sketch for pulling a prank, not a bank heist, Stilinski.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged gently. There was a long pause before he added, “Which one am I, anyway, before I end up pointing at something else that isn’t me, like a tree?”

Looking at him pointedly, stabbing his spot on the paper, before looking away at the wall in front of her, she kept her face emotionless.

“Oh.” There was a moment. “Why do I always have to stay in the Jeep?” He looked up to see her glowering stare leveled his way. “What?! Well, if you would have used something other than the crayons provided at the restaurant, this would all be much easier to understand!”


	57. Chapter 57

****You really should be used to the squabbling by now, you thought, especially seeing as you were usually right in the centre of most loft disputes. Tonight however, it was your fellow lycanthropic roommates who were causing all the ruckus. You let out a growl of frustration and tossed the book you'd been attempting to read across the bedroom. There was no way of concentrating with all the yelling that was coming from the kitchen. You'd already been** **

> **in a rotten mood all day, and this was doing nothing to improve your current disposition. You gritted your teeth, and breathed in and out slowly, in some kind of attempt to curb your aggravation. The attempt was ultimately foiled when the argument in the argument in the kitchen switched gears; the three men seemingly now just shouting a variety of the foulest expletives they could come up with at each other. You felt your eyes flash yellow, and a low growl began to sound in your**

> **throat. That’s it. They’d brought this upon themselves. Springing up from your bed, you charged out of your room and toward the rowdy voices, with tightly clenched fists and a face like thunder. “Enough!” You hollered, at the top of your lungs. The room abruptly startled into silence, and three heads slowly turned to face you. Deciding to calm down a little before actually speaking, you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply through your nose, then prolongedly**

> **exhaled through your mouth. You opened your eyes again, before narrowing them slightly at your roommates as you cleared your throat. “Gentlemen,” you addressed them with a solemn nod, “what are we?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Derek, Isaac and Peter blinked back at you a few times before shooting each other quizzical looks. You let out an exasperated huff, slumping your shoulders. “Seriously you guys?” You whined, scanning their (almost comically) bewildered**

**  
**

> **expressions. Upon receiving no verbal response for the second time, you threw your hands up into the air and dramatically exclaimed, “We are WEREWOLVES, NOT SWEARWOLVES.”**

“Did you fall and hit your head?” Peter asked after a moment, his eyebrows knit in concern, but he didn’t dare take a step towards you.

“She is looking a little out of it, now that you mention it,” Derek adding, leaning slightly to Peter, his voice lowering just slightly.

“Are you feeling well?” Isaac dared to step forward, lifting a tentative hand to your forehead, you looked up at it before scrunching up your face and swatting it away, making him return to the line with the other two.

“Dear God, Isaac! I am a werewolf! Yes, I’m fine. It would take a lot more than a cold to knock me on my ass, and my symptoms would not be yelling at you three. Goodness knows I waste enough energy as it is everyday doing just that!”

“It takes more than sickness to knock you on your ass?” Derek asked, straightening, crossing his arms across his chest. “I saw you passed out, asleep, drooling all over your math book while it was being used as a pillow.”

“Yes! Matters of the mind make me tired!” You stopped. They smirked. You had walked right into their trap.

“So thinking,” Peter mused, looking off into space, making a swooping gesture with one hand, “in general,” he looked at you with a devious smirk, “exhausts you to the point of sleep?”

Before Isaac could be a smart ass, you stood straight and tall, looking them each in the eye as you spoke. “At the end of the day, after dealing with the three biggest imbeciles on the planet, that I am forced to live with, and interact with, and referee for, not to mention put them back in their place when they step out of line,” you took a step forward, which they accounted for in a unanimous step backwards. “Yes. By that point in my day, thinking in general is an effort.”

After a long pause, Isaac broke the silence. “Well if that’s the case, why do you start most of the arguments?”

And that is the story of how the toaster got destroyed. None of them will admit to who actually broke it, or why, or how.

But they all agree on one thing. “It’s someone else’s fault.”


	58. Chapter 58

**"Oh Y/N." I wish you would have told me, I could have helped you ." Y/N laughed humorously. "Helped me how Isaac? Nobody could help me, not then and even not now after a few months ." She stood up and walked, almost ran, towards the door. However Isaac**

****

was quick to his feet, rising from the couch and grabbing her wrist. He wouldn’t let go, in fact, he held tighter despite her protests. 

“Let me go!” She cried, her tears turning to angry bitter things, leaving hot trails down her face. “I have to-” she sobbed. “I have to….” She pointed toward the loft door. 

“No, you don’t,” Isaac said softly, gently pulling on her wrist still tight within his grip and reeling her into him, slowly enveloping her into a hug as he felt her melt into him, her body relaxing to the point he had to sit back down on the couch and support her. 

“You don’t understand,” she said brokenly into his chest, her sobs fading into sniffles, the smell of him calming her just like he had hoped. 

“I don’t have to.” 


	59. Chapter 59

**"Hey Stiles, do you dare me to poke that creepy Alpha guy Scott told us to stay away from?" "WHAT?! No?! Why the hell would I dare you to-?" "I can't believe you're daring me to poke him right now." "Y/n I literally have no idea where you're getting this from, I even didn't say anything remotely like-" "Jeez! Okay, fine. I'm gonna do it. Sit tight. I'll right back." "nO! Y/N I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP-!"**

> “Hey Stiles do you totally dare me to go over there and poke that creepy alpha Scott told us to avoid at all costs?” “WHAT?! No?! Why the hell would I dare you to-” “I can’t believe you’re actually daring me to go poke that creepy alpha right now.” “Y/n I literally have no idea where you’re getting this from. I haven’t said a single thing about-” “Ugh! Okay fine, I’ll do it Stilinski! Sit tight, I’ll be right back.” “nO! WHAT ARE YOU- ?! Y/N I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER NOT TAKE ANOTHER STEP!”

**I got two versions of this, so here.**

* * *

“Or else you’ll what, Stiles?”

Stiles chuckled nervously, wagging a finger in your direction. “Oh, ho, ho, ho…. You,” the finger started wagging closer to your face as his voice lowered to a sarcastic hiss. “You just don’t want to find that out.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, barely letting you get your retorts out before he countered them.

“Because I’m pretty sure I do.”

“No, not at all.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“….Because why, Stiles?!” You had begun to gesture sharply, your voice a low hiss to avoid creepy alpha dude overhearing.

“Because!” He sounded like he had stated the obvious, with a thick topping of exasperation.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s enough.”

“No it’s not.”

“So totally enough.”

A long silence sat between you two, your hands on your hips as you stared him down, finally breaking the silence after an awkwardly long time. “Well, too bad.” You leaned in close to his face and smirked. “I’m gonna go poke the alpha.”

“You’re gonna go poke the alpha?”

“I’m gonna go poke the creepy alpha!”

“Well, get ready, because now’s your chance - he’s headed right toward us.”

As you both ran shrieking from the school, you shouted, “This is all your fault, Stilinski!”

“Me?! What did I do?!” He was gasping for breath as you both sprinted.

The two of you shouted back and forth as you ran deeper into the woods.

“You just had to dare me to go poke the alpha!”

“Oh, here we go again!”

“Yes!”

“I did not dare you to go poke the creepy alpha!”

“That’s what I heard!”

“You heard nothing!”


End file.
